"Okay, now you." Ulric told her hurriedly, trying not bounce on his toes while he waited.
"See for yourself, Husband, bask in the light that is your Taipan." Challenged the She-Elf.
Damn it. Whatever. Ulric focused his sight on his Shadow-Wife, pulling slightly on his core, and the ever present connection between himself and the planet's being.
[Scan]
image [https://imgur.com/mlVN6uc.png]
Hmm…interesting. Ulric noted more than a couple of changes immediately. Firstly, her title of [Shadow of the Ancient Glade] was gone, replaced by [Lady of the Ancient Glade]. Somehow something must have pushed his perceptions or her perceptions of herself more strongly from that identity to that of his partner. Certainly he hadn't been able to tell from her attitude, she was as Taipan as she ever was. The new title was interesting in that it also reflected an extension of the self to now encompass those under his protections. More than that, it suggested that Taipan viewed herself as the enforcer of his will, not merely supporting him but actively enacting his desires.
That was kind of sweet of her, really. The fickle Elf gave off the vibe of a barn cat at times, independent to the point of distance, but always she was aimed, like the arrows she carried, at his ends and seeing them come to fruition. Some things they didn't need to say aloud between them but seeing it in black and white was still nice. He'd have to do something special to let her know he appreciated her efforts. The last change was the most surprising, by far.
Taipan had developed a new spellworking! She seemed not to have much interest in the mage arts but here he saw that she had devised a brand new construct, and it looked like a doozy. The normally evasive or single target nature of her magicks was, instead, branching out into a wide area ability that looked mighty dangerous for anything caught in its range. In addition to the already deadly nature of the steel hard, incredibly thin and sharp blades her Iskios tended to produce, it turned the attack into a diffuse one, exceedingly difficult to defend against, and carried still that distinctive property of her core's influence to debilitate targets, including disrupting their ability to employ their own mana. It seemed like she was subtly refining her skills to specifically counter mages, deeply classed individuals, or the nightmarish tricks of Greater Beasts.
What a lass.
"Hey!" He exclaimed, "You were actually listening to my magic lessons the whole time! But you said it was 'dusty talk for ones with spiderwebs for brains' when I tried to get you to join me with Gother's instruction."
"It is." Taipan defended herself, slightly embarrassed by his remembering her exact words to escape being forced under the Archmage's thorough, and thoroughly boring, arcanology.
"That does not mean I did not understand it all." She huffed at him, "Only that I chose where to direct my talents and how to best shape my core's strengths to my own combat style."
"Besides, we are not all of us walking around with a small star in our chest, I must wisely expend my energies. Most do not have your wellspring of mana to work with, Ulric, needs I remind you." She jested lightly.
He went silent at that and considered again the potency of his gifts. An Elven core could recharge itself incredibly rapidly, filling itself from the dragon pulse of mana that enmeshed Varda, great magical conduits that ran like subterranean rivers of power, so long as it was attuned to those flows. Ulric had a human core, which could not do such a thing, but his core was unbelievably efficient in the capacity to store magic, especially since he'd begun saturating his body with that mana, using his entire body like a reservoir to increase the available energy. He looked at it like the mystical equivalent to storing sugars as glycogen. He couldn't just fill himself to the rim with mana, that would kill him, but he could package it into himself in discrete quantities. When Ulric wanted to expend his strength he could really bring some aetheric oomph to bear.
It was probably difficult for his Shadow to develop any magicks that utilized so much of her reserves at once.
"Well, now the secret's out, you just bought yourself some time in Bathe Iriel's How Do I Hold All This Mana course." Ulric threatened the Elf, watching her scowl as he did.
Body magics were notoriously tiresome to learn. They were also instrumental to bolster your chances of awakening and, in the cases of the shorter lived races, living long enough to achieve the mastery that equated to an Archmage. In the case of Bathe, body magics advanced enough could grant their user the ability to stand and fight a Greater Beast, unarmed.
"No arguing now, Taipan. You know it's good for you. Think of it as just more chances to bond with your mate." He chivvied.
"I could just straddle you and send you to sleep, instead." Suggested his Wife.
That there was a tempting offer. Very tempting. But no good! He would selflessly deny himself serial bonkings if it let his partner reach a higher pinnacle, and therefore become safer in this volatile world.
"Auf keinsten!" He rebutted, not daring to use the human tongue and reveal his hesitation in her offer.
"Ulric, you know that I do not speak the throat disease that you name your old world's language." Taipan sallied.
"I refuse!" Ulric reiterated to her, rallying under his own banner.
She might be able to pierce his defenses with her charms but he was just recently availed of them, and how! And thus temporarily immune to her, oh, Dukes, she's pulling the front of her undershirt down. Look away!
Turning aside from the instant defeat that lie between shaded vales, Ulric began hauling his baggage along, whistling and ignoring the protestations of his lovely Shadow.
They had business to attend to this day. It wasn't even two Rounds of the Twins past dawn and he had to try to get their next steps in order.
First, they had to make contact with Kistalfer in a way that did not reveal the position or, if possible, even the existence of the Orlethrem or these new Prespanger freemen. That one wasn't too much of a challenge. Second, Ulric needed to establish his authority to a people that had, in all likely, no reason to value his word or care who he was. In contrast to the first step of his planned diplomacy, this was a tricky one, and Taipan had suggested that a show of personal strength or what amounted to a litany of deed might be necessary to sway them to hear him out.
Ulric wasn't so certain that calling lightning and fire down on a city was the way to get their attention, but he wasn't the expert at negotiating with foreign powers that his Shadow was. She'd had plenty of experience in her time as Bald'rt's second, and then, tragically, first born.
Assuming that they could effectively get the other side to come to the table in good faith, Ulric would use the life of the Captain and offer of mutual nonaggression within the borders of that Baron's lands to bargain for purchase of ships and crew from willing captains. Prespang was a large place, with many clans, tribes, and townships scattered along the Vatyn's islands, tributary rivers, and tremendous coastlines. With trade season entering its peak, some of those would be amenable to Ulric's offers. Prosper was wealthy, but they'd made enemies in the doing and there would be those who preferred to remain in the Elves' good graces.
Especially when, according to his Wife's accounts, Prosper had just gotten their asses kicked into their stomachs by the Elves' counter attack. Few would want to earn the ire of a confederated nation of beings who lived for near to a thousand years and carried long memories with regards to who had done their people wrongly and who had proven friend.
That was the plan. It wasn't a great one, he was willing to admit, but he wasn't certain what alternatives he had. Crossing Prespang overland, to return to Orelethrem territory basically the way he had come would cost them the summer season and risk intercept by the turtling Prespang forces. The border would be a fucking nightmare with edgy populaces worried about Elven incursions, Taipan had already confirmed a drastic increase in military activity to secure the long leagues between Legranel, Celestin, and Zelussin bounded lands.
She would know, she'd run that border twice in recent history, undetected.
If he had to, Ulric felt like he could probably make that overland push, with Taipan's help to avoid contact with most of the larger elements of Prespang's scattered City State led warriors. But that basically meant restarting his journey in Autumn, marching North with Winter's grip awaiting. Ask Napolean and the Wehrmacht how good an idea that was.
History was full of helpful lessons like that.
So, if he failed to make his intended attempt on the Merchant Lords' lives from this position, he'd be forced, more or less, to wait an entire year. Ulric Einar, [Lord of the Ancient Glade], did not want to grant his enemies another year of turning precious Vardan air into plans to commit war crimes.
But. That was a bridge to cross in the future. For now, he had absorbed a greater priority in the form of two hundred, maybe close to three, now he had a good look at them all under Twins' light, near defenseless people who'd done nothing wrong but want to live a free life. Just like he wanted to live a free life.
This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.
Shaking his head at the mess things had become he couldn't help but be discouraged. It had all been so simple, not so damned long ago.
"Fuck." he noted aloud.
"Mmm, yes, fuck indeed." Agreed Taipan, having some idea what [Bark Weasels] chased themselves through her Honor's thoughts.
He took seriously his perceived duties and obligations, did her husband. Sometimes too seriously, but that was a common failing of those new to the weight of the crown. Her younger brother had been receiving instruction in the art of rule since his matriculation, almost a decade, and he was still unready for the mantle when it had been, even temporarily, bestowed on him. Lumyt'seit also had the benefit of his sire's wisdom and the guidance of her Mothers to see he guided the Orlethrem truly. Ulric had none of that and was relying on that seemingly vast store of ancient writings he had committed to memory to go by.
Some of those philosophies and teachings were so alien to her own perceptions that she wondered how his prior people had not destroyed themselves sooner.
She resumed her study of the proceedings around the two of them, their walk having been noted by Ulric's new subjects. They noted their Lord's meanderings but carried on their tasks, appearing unimpressed. It was a game they liked to play and Taipan would not curtail it, because it was amusing, and because they never displayed anything that would come close to being called true disrespect. That would have her taking sharp issue, and all knew it. She doubted that there would arise a need to object, the Aes'r here knew they owed a life's debt to her odd Honor.
Taipan watched as the Elves of Celesta, Legranel, and Zelussin, with the rare Aktinian mixed in, began plying the fruits of the training given them as youths, going at their tasks with industrious vigor. Only Duties held the entire collection of skills towards home, hearth, and the fine trappings of their heritage, polished to the n'th degree, but each individual was given a thorough education in a segment of those talents, and the use of their cores to weave the magics that went with them. Cruder, and with much greater difficulty than would have been so for a true mage, and far slower than a Duty, nevertheless the Orlethrem were applying their learning to create an Elfhome here in this foreign forest.
Her cousins were employing their varied skills in mundane carpentry, carving, weaving, scrimshaw, tanning, and tailoring to rapidly install a semblance of the normal comforts and trappings of Orlethrem life. The more adept of the collection applied themselves in a using the aether to speed tasks, according to the old ways taught them. Wells were being dug, assisted with Terra. Aquae webs were created and fed periodically, starting beneath roughly, but efficiently raised toilets that emptied into Terra crafted troughs of sealed stone to create running latrines, those cycled through Germane spelled woven root mesh gratings that emptied waste into cesspits that would, eventually, be covered over to ferment into planting soil. If they remained long enough, the carpenters amongst her kin would carve water wheels to pump water from the nearby creeks and estuaries that would irrigate crop fields.
In another of the tasks that the Aes'r were taught that were fundamental to the establishment of long lived settlements, Taipan watched a team of crippled Elves riding in a wagon use their cores to knit a drying on the earth, forcing the water in the surface soil to leave. Behind them, a group of intensely focused kin followed, hardening the new roadway to prevent it re-uptaking the moisture and turning to mud. All of these doings were the hallmarks of founding a village.
It still annoyed her that Trachn'ir had not bothered to keep her streets dried. It was a massive effort, so close to the river, true, and the infiltration of water would make the task one that had to be repeated frequently, but it was an early lesson and it galled her that some of the old ways were not being observed. Traditions were tradition for good reason and the Iriel'en were sticklers.
Taipan brushed away her annoyance as she shepherded her mate through the budding village. She took definite pleasure in each rock he made sure to drag the bound Valin kinslayer over. It was petty, but some things should be enjoyed without tainting them with too much thought. The pain of an enemy was one such.
Ah, now, there was a sight to catch her eye. A small group of lightly armed Aes'r breaking free of the woodline, returning to camp with kills secured to their backs, already gutted and skinned. Others displayed bulging satchels, roots and foodstuffs poking out from the leather or burlap or whatever they had scrounged together to make the bags.
Already, it seemed, some of the most able of the Orlethrem had taken upon themselves the role of Hunter, taking their bows and spears into the woodland to obtain herbs, shoots, tubers, and to kill the local beasts for their bounty of materials, meat notwithstanding. She watched fledgling Hunters working their staves, wrapping them in hide or treating them with boiled sap to water proof them. The greenwood bowstaves would not last long, but aged wood was a luxury they did not have. Others fletched new arrows, knapping stones or carving straight bones into the characteristic hand span broad heads, while others readied the glue and sinew bindings.
Taipan was well pleased by the rapidity of her cousins' recovery from their ordeal. They had rallied strongly and, in spite of many crippling or disfiguring remnants of their captivity, were rising to become a single people again. Her Husband's people, therefore, by extension, her own. That was another source of pride for her. The former princess had renounced her name and birthright, had cut herself off from her roots.
It was painful, but necessary, her shame had demanded no less redress for her multiple failings. Now though, Aes'r would be able to call her family. Perhaps, when enough time had passed, she would be able to call upon her former rings, to rejoin them as a worthy, under her new name.
Ulric started cursing under his breath, indicating absently that her mate required her services again.
"Now where did I leave that damned flag pole?" Ulric groused.
He'd been looking around for it for a quarter Round of the Twins but the damned thing had up and vanished. As much as he was terribly interested in watching the Orlethrem establish their infrastructure was, he truly needed to get this situation with the Captain resolved before too much time passed. The longer their enemy stewed, the more time they would have to make preparations or resolve contingencies that he might be able to take advantage of, if he acted promptly on the advantage that the sudden loss of so many warriors might yield.
"I could have sworn I left it right over here, this is where you caught up with me when I got back to the village. Do you know where it went, Taipan?" Ulric muttered before turning to his Shadow for help.
In a rare lapse of attention, his Shadow-Wife's mind was elsewhere, her concentration on the doings of her kin having captured her focus. Bronze flecked eyes were dissecting the goings on, examining the various tasks and measuring them to exacting standards.
"Taipan?" Ulric checked, "You there?"
She shook herself from her reverie and turned piercing gaze upon him, the unnerving focus of a predator on her.
"I'm sorry, Glade Chief, what was that? My thoughts were bent elsewhere." Confessed the dutiful Elf.
"The flagpole I hauled our bargaining chip in on…Do you know where it's gone to?" He inquired, waving a hand vaguely in the direction of their initial meeting the day before.
A single pass of her sight and she realized that the flag pole had gone missing.
"It was over there, next to those grain barrels, last I saw it." His partner gestured, before scrunching her eyebrows thoughtfully while remembering her last sight of his objective, "I may be mistaken, but there is good chance some of my cousins took it as a carry pole for wild game. The foragers had located some [Mossybacked Boars], a dozen companion sows, and three litters of piglets. The adults are worthless eating, their meat absorbs too much of the poisonous insects and roots that they like to eat, but the piglets could be tied a dozen at a time to the pole for easy carrying."
Hmm, Ulric hummed to himself, that did make sense. It wasn't like he was the sole proprietor of the flag pole, he'd simply used the longest unburnt piece of round lumber available from the remains of the sacked village. Oh well, he'd have to make do somehow, he was growing weary of dragging the captive woman around by the feet, no matter how much joy it clearly gave his vengeful mate. Taipan would be Taipan, but he didn't have to behave like a total savage.
"Damn." Ulric commented, "I might have to find that tree sorcerer kid and have him shape me a new banner stave to carry my prize with. Can't be showing up to negotiate looking like some kind of vagrant."
It wasn't like he exactly knew how a man was supposed to go try to bargain with a hostile foreign party using one of their commanding officers as leverage. He was making this shit up as he went. Antisocial tendencies did not make for an intuitive sense for diplomacy. If he'd been willing to drop a [Vortex Flare] on top of the city, that would've brought them to the table in a fucking hurry but he wasn't some kind of maniac. Yet. Anyway, his vicar in such matters, the dark Elf sauntering behind him had supported this course of action as the most likely to produce desired results.
He'd have their eyes on him when he strolled up to the city with their Captain strung from a godsdamned pole, that was for sure. For good measure, Taipan had suggested that he collect the helmets of the dead soldiers, as many as he could carry, on a string to wrap around the staff and serve as proof that he was responsible for the destruction of the force of combatants. Helmets was technically his compromise with her, as his salty lass had initially angled for the heads of the slain. Iriel'en had no chill when it came to war and Taipan was the pinnacle of her kind in this regard, as well as so many others.
The point of this was to show the Baron of Kistalfer and the other movers and shakers of the City-State that he wasn't to be trifled with and merited a measured parley. He had a feeling that if he showed up with scalps or some such, the people in the city would be incited to fury at the desecration of their loved ones. Not exactly the right place from which to start bargaining an exchange. Besides. He needed the crews to go along with the ships and he didn't want to spook any potentially willing captains with a show of barbarism.
A rather fine line to walk, but this was the only path forward that he had open to him. Crossing Prespang to make a run to the Orlethrem border was certain to be a blood bath. They'd never pull it off without dragging these innocents into a pitched battle. A last resort, to be sure.
Midsunsrise had come, the Twins hung above the low canopy of diverse trees, their varying ages producing a multi-tiered interlacing of branch, trunk, limb and foliage that permitted light into the undergrowth. Not enough to promote excess shrubbery and ground cover, but enough to encourage berry bushes, patches of herbs, mosses, some clumps of tall grasses, and the odd glade where a tree had come down. It was, by any measure, a tremendously healthy old growth forest. Not as majestic as the greater arbors of Iriel but still a treasure, to the eyes of a man who had never known a mature forest in his entire life in the Before.
Ulric picked up the bound victim, er, prisoner, and slung her over his shoulder like a sack of corn. This close, he could clearly make out the muffled litany of pejoratives she hurled his way. Well, he wasn't about to blame her for that. Ulric Einar had cost her an arm, two fingers from the other hand, and about a dozen deep lacerations that would definitely scar majorly. In all likelihood, the fighting days of Ms. Captain were over. Then, of course, was the fact that, between the poison and his assault, he'd been responsible for her losing every single man under her command, which probably stung the pride a bit.
He resisted the urge to smile at her well-earned misfortune.
"I really can be a bastard sometimes." Ulric said in passing to his partner, as they searched the perimeter of the camp for the German Adept.
"You are only realizing this now, Glade Chief?" The Huntress replied drily.
Now he did smile at his partner's snark. She'd been on the receiving end of his rough nature more than once.
"No, I always knew I was a cold blooded prick. It's just that I never had much reason to care about it before." He admitted, stepping out of the way of another one of those carts full of hard concentrating Elves that seemed to be doing something that tingled his mana sense in the tune of Terra and left behind a firm, even trail of dry stone.
He wasn't certain, but he suspected they were creating a road bed, or wagon trail.
"And why now do you place value on this awareness?" Probed the sylvan woman behind him.
"Mostly you. A little bit of your brother Brighteyes and your parents. A touch of Hal'et, Christ, Idra and the other Royal Guards. A lot of seeing how much the Iriel'en are, as a people, what I dreamt my own people could have been, if only they'd loved their world as much as yours do." Ulric told her, thinking it out a little for himself.
"You're all a bunch of hardasses, but it doesn't stop you from truly caring for each other, for your responsibility to your people and heritage. Sort of reminds me that, for all the technology we developed, my kind were so…immature." He spoke aloud some of the ruminations he'd come to over many nights spent staring into the flames of a campfire.
"That is an interesting perspective, Ulric," Taipan mused after a few moments, "But what does this understanding for yourself change?"
That was very like her, to come straight to the heart of the issue, on a direct path. What did it matter that you knew a thing, if it did not lead to growth or change?
"I dunno," Ulric admitted slowly, "I guess, at the moment, it's enough to know. I have bigger problems in life currently than knowing I'm an asshole. In fact, those parts of me are going to be an advantage in the coming days. It's going to take a callous heart to do the things I'm going to have to do in the next few months, if I'm to kill those sonsofbitches in Prosper for the things they've done. I'll worry about trying to be a good person when the evils I need to exterminate are gone. So long as I'm decent to you, and to the ones under my protection, everyone else is going to have to take care of themselves and stay out of my way."
Not nice of him, true, but he'd never claimed to be nice. Sometimes it took an asshole to get things done. Nobody had to like him for it. They'd be grateful though, when they looked up and saw that one of the major sources for iniquity in this part of the world was ashes. Not that he gave a shit, but he was confident that history would find him in the right in this. The history of his old world more than suggested his course was heading off an eventual genocide against the Elves, Svartalfin, Ogran, and Beastkin races. People like those in Prosper couldn't help it. They always turned to fire and sword to ensure their dominance.
"Good." Taipan said, approval clear in her lilting tone, "That is what it is to be a Lord anointed by the All-Knowledge. Your domain is yours. Your will is all that matters. The power to see it through is the limit to your ambition. This is the way. I will walk this path beside you, to keep your enemies afraid of the dark of your shadow."
It was an odd thing, to be comforted by the notion that you had a lady with an assassin's heart watching out for you but he did indeed find his partner's conviction a great warm blanket of assurance. Together, he felt like they could be greater than the sum of their parts. Where Taipan was a precision instrument, flitting invisible to find the seams in his enemy's armor, he would be a great big fucking hammer, crushing them when they tried to find their balance.