Book 4 Chapter 43 (Patreon)

The walls of Tumbling Rapids standing high above the plains made for a welcome sight. Months of marching, of having to act like part of an army instead of acting as the hunting teams they were used to, had dragged at the members of the Shatterplate Order, and as their leader, Edric had not only had to deal with his subordinates complaints and problems, but half the damn campaign’s as well, since he was one of the commanders. Not that he was, in truth, his only area of responsibility was the outriders and scouts, a vast majority of which were his own hunting teams. The other groups and nobles that had gathered to make the campaign a reality had mostly brought mainline troops, so he was in command of his own people, a handful of cavalry scouts, and one small band of skirmishers from a mercenary group hired by a low ranking noble with no actual troops of his own.

As commander of the scouting elements of the campaign, he’d basically done nothing related to his responsibilities during the march. They’d passed almost exclusively through controlled territory until a couple of months ago when they started hitting wild areas, and there was no need for scouts when passing through other nation’s territories. In fact, it would be seen as threatening to most polities if an army that was supposedly “just moving through” started sending out scouting elements to look around them, perhaps for targets? So until recently, he’d been mostly sitting around. When they’d hit the first stretch of uncontrolled territory where there might be actual threats, he’d started sending out scouts, but most monsters ran away from a group as large as theirs, and the few that’d been too stupid to see an entire army as a threat had been quickly killed by the scouts themselves.

Somehow he’d become the go-to person to deal with disputes and problems, probably because some asshole, and he didn’t care who it was; they were an asshole for putting him in that position, had decided he could handle it since he wasn’t doing much else. Through all the problem-solving and mediation he’d had to handle, he’d discovered one important thing: this entire idea had been a bad one. When he was dealing with people’s issues and often arguing with them about solutions, they quickly dropped their guard and confirmed a suspicion he’d been having; most of the people that had joined the campaign didn’t give a shit about its actual goals. It was worse than he’d originally thought, that the goal of defeating a vampyr that was in a position of power and keeping the world safe was a minor goal to them, or secondary to what they wanted to get out of this, they fully did not care whether the vampyr lived or died.

Calling that a problem would be an understatement, at least to Edric. He didn’t expect anyone to care as much about dealing with vampyr as he did or to put as much effort into it as his people or the members of the Crusade, but to realize that many of the nobles and commanders who’d joined the campaign would willingly let the vampyr get away if it meant they got what they wanted out of it? That was an issue. The two generals who’d been sent by the Empire and the Concord had unofficial orders to take a potential rival down a few pegs. Most of the nobles wanted to take some land for themselves so they could set up their own little fiefs outside the control of their home governments, and the various mercenaries and military commanders wanted to clutch some glory for themselves and raise their fortunes. Even the dragon and rider pair that had been brought along cared more about some other dragon that was supposedly in Avalon more than the threat of a vampyr Class Line Progenitor.

He wasn’t sure why the couple cared about the other dragon; they kept most of their conversations between themselves using that bond they had, but he really wished he could recruit them. He didn’t particularly care about the dragon; he was a bit hot-tempered and didn’t seem the type to be good at the Order’s style of hunting, but the rider would be quite the catch. She was patient, calm, and had quite the psychic Class. Sadly, he’d already picked up that she was one of the more principled people with that type of Class, and while he appreciated the conscientiousness, a psychic that wouldn’t read other people’s minds wasn’t useful for him.

With or without the psychic, Edric had made sure people’s decisions were pointed in the right direction. A few messages were missing here, and a few extra ones added there, slipping a few “overheard” conversations into camp life, and he’d quite quickly turned the general vibe of everyone’s goals the way they needed to be. He didn’t care what each individual or group got up to after the vampyr was dealt with, but he was damn sure they’d deal with it first and foremost. Once he’d successfully manipulated everyone he needed to, he’d focused on his second goal, rooting out the members of the Coalition of Fang’s End that had been smuggled into the campaign. For many years, he’d been focused on his own organization and dealing with vampyr directly, and his information about the Coalition had waned. They’d long past the mark he’d envisioned them approaching and had gone from a worrisome group into one that needed to not exist anymore. Being a little zealous in hunting down vampyr and causing some light collateral damage to buildings or roads was one thing; actual terrorism and wanton murder were completely different and needed to be stopped.

He’d shared his concerns with his old friend Rian, High Crusader Hearthbreaker, who he was quite happy to have along. She’d shared some of her concerns with how the Crusade was growing as well, and Edric had decided to spend some time pruning the Crusade carefully after this ended. Transitioning from a successful campaign to root out a powerful vampyr to have the Order work more closely with the Crusade would be easy, and after that, it wouldn’t be much trouble to tone down or remove certain elements that were pushing the Crusade in unsavory directions. The purpose of both their organizations was to remove threats to people’s lives, not become threats in the name of being better than everyone just because they hunted monstrosity. The Coalition members in the campaign would have some sad accidents when they got closer to enemy territory, and the rest of the glamorization would be dealt with when time allowed.

The actual dealing with people’s complaints had been a bore, but it had let him get away with necessary shenanigans, so he let it wash off him as he felt faintly disappointed that he couldn’t see the city’s famous lake from the side they were approaching. It was always good to stay in practice with old skills and Skills, and he hadn’t had much opportunity to flex his oldest Class in some time. Edric Ravenhome was the leader of the Shatterplate Order and a powerful vampyr hunter with an impressive fifth-tier Hunter Class; everyone knew that. The man who had died with his family and hometown to a vampyr attack on the same day Edric Ravenhome had come into existence had been one of the best up-and-coming spies the Bannerthrust Empire had seen in quite some time.

Approaching the gate to the city with the rest of the leadership while the main body of the army made camp some distance from the walls, Edric mentally prepared himself for the meeting they had scheduled. They’d sent messages months ago to get permission to rest outside the city and buy supplies, so they didn’t need extra permissions for that, but High Crusader Vexler had insisted they recruit combatants from the city itself, so they’d asked to schedule an extra meeting alongside the first, but the reply they’d gotten was interesting. Instead of meeting the local guildmaster of the Adventurer’s Guild to discuss the guild's response to their request for aid and then with the city’s representative, they would be meeting both at the same time.

Edric, Rian, Vexler, and Crusader General Eahn were led deeper to a building attached to the wall while other lower-level officers were left behind to deal with logistics and getting supplies. The four of them were quickly taken to a small meeting room with two people inside. 

“Welcome,” One of the two seated men greeted them. He was a thin, lanky human with a neatly groomed goatee. “I’m Guildmaster Caruion of the Adventurer’s Guild. With me is Councilmember Lenesalera of Tumbling Rapids.”

The similarly thin, silver-haired, elven man nodded once but said nothing.

“Please, have a seat.” The guildmaster continued.

The Crusader General introduced them all after they’d all seated themselves. “I am Crusader General Stonegnawer Eahn of the Itarian Crusade; these are High Crusaders Hearthbreaker and Vexler of the same. Also with us is Commander Ravenhome of the Shatterplate Order.”

“A pleasure.” The guildmaster’s smile was thin and patently false, while the councilmember was stone-faced. “I do hate to skip the pleasantries, but there’s much to handle, so we’ll be getting right to the point.”

“The city of Tumbling Rapids will not be supplying any fighters to your invasion, nor will we be allowing volunteers to do so.” Councilmember Lenesalera informed them flatly. “We do not have a standing military to send, nor can we afford to allow any of our guard or our directly overseen adventurers to join you when we already have problems close to home to deal with.”

Vexler perked up with a winning smile, “Now, I’m sure that-“

“No.” Lenesalera forcibly cut him off before he could finish speaking. “There is nothing you can say to change this decision. The answer is final.”

Vexler had jerked back at the force of the reply, and then he leaned forward aggressively. “Now see here. We-“

“High Crusader.”

The Crusader Generals rebuke cut Vexler off immediately. He sat back in his seat, looking sullen.

“Following that, I must inform you that the Adventurer’s Guild has rejected your call for aid.” The guildmaster told them calmly but with just as much steel in his voice.

Eahn hadn’t outwardly responded to the councilmember’s response, but this had him raising his brow. “Oh? Why is that?”

“The guild’s policies are clear: we will not get involved in any political conflicts in order to keep our neutrality between nations. Should an actual threat that necessitates the guild getting involved arise that is more than a normal war or a political conflict, we will. But not for something like this.”

“’Something like this’?” Vexler scowled mightily at the shorter man, his tusks bared angrily, “A vampyr Class Line Progenitor leading a country is a direct threat to everyone in the area!” He insisted, “How can you say that isn’t a threat worth dealing with?”

“Were there to be a vampyr who was a Class Line Progenitor or a leader of a growing nation, both would be seen as problems, although whether or not they would be problems the guild would participate in dealing with is above my level. However, the situation you’re describing does not exist. Lord Kay is a vampire, not a vampyr.”

What? Edric frowned in shock and felt some anxiety start to rise. Do they actually…?

“You believe that bullshit coming from the monster’s mouth?” Vexler demanded, slamming a fist on the table as he echoed Edric’s thoughts. “Manipulations of that level are to be expected from a vampyr! You can’t seriously believe-“

“Quiet.” Lenesalera hissed at him, the sheer violence in the elf’s tone shutting Vexler up mid-tirade.

Guildmaster Caruion stared at them all stonily. “My fellow guildmaster, Guildmaster Gemglass of the guild’s Avalon branch, has personally spoken with and used Identify on Lord Kay. Not only did her Identify Skill call him a vampire and not a vampyr, he willingly gave an Oath to the System that he was not a vampyr and his claims regarding what occurred were true. With that being the case, the Adventurer’s Guild has formally identified your invasion as a political conflict we will not be involving ourselves in. This is the decree of both the guild’s leadership and the founders themselves.”

Edric felt himself blanch and saw the two High Crusaders do the same. The founders of the Adventurer’s Guild and the nation that simultaneously hosted and oversaw the guild were almost legendary figures. They were some of the few publicly confirmed tier sixes and were often embroiled in unbelievable tales of adventure, most of which turned out to be true. No one wanted to fuck with them.

“That is all we have to say.” The guildmaster stood and headed for the door. He paused before stepping outside. “I hope you take the time to actually talk before you get yourselves embroiled in a war with Avalon. Ignoring the Class Line Progenitor and everyone else they’ve managed to recruit or train up, the Indomitable Fist doesn’t forgive anyone who attacks her people.”

The councilmember stared at them for a moment as the guildmaster left. “You have two days to resupply before you move on. Remaining longer than that will be considered a threat against the city.” He stood and made his way to the door.

Before he could leave, it was kicked open, and a heavy-set, muscular human in deep purple clothing with sparkly golden trimming forced himself into the room. “Lenesalera! How rude of you; you knew I wanted to be part of the meeting with the Crusader General!”

“King Glowl,” The councilmember spat out through gritted teeth, “Your request to be part of the meeting was denied.”

“What? That can’t be! Your wondrous city and my own nation have become so close together, brothers in spirit!” The man’s words were complimentary, but his eyes were incredibly aggressive as he stared down Lenesalera. The councilmember flinched back the smallest amount from the bloodlust that poured off the man, and the human seized the opportunity. He whirled to face Eahn, body checking the thinner elven man out of his way. “I, King Glowl of Nelam, and I’ve come to pledge my forces to your cause!”