Stone and Blood: Act 3, Chapter 1 (Patreon)

2nd Day, Upper Fire Month, 1 CE

The vermilion banner of the Sorcerous Kingdom snapped in the wind and Florine coughed as a cloud of dust scoured the crater in the middle of the Dale of Defiance. She retreated into the administration’s pavilion producing a handkerchief to wipe the tears from her eyes. Out of habit, she pulled it away to examine the fabric, but she hadn’t worn any makeup since staying with the Zern.

It’s barely summer and this place feels like it’s going to spontaneously combust.

According to the locals, brush fires were a common occurrence during the season. When she asked them whether they needed any help putting them out, they replied that they just let the fires run their course. Once every few years, the fires would become so extensive that clouds of Cinder Elementals would spawn and wage war with the local Earth Elementals until they were finally extinguished. Even so, the tribes didn’t seem to mind. Some of them even held festivals as the world burned and shook around them.

“Shall I retrieve something for the dust, Lady Gagnier?” The Vampire Bride asked.

“Is there something?” Florine answered, “Very well, let’s see what you have.”

The Vampire Bride lowered her head before exiting the pavilion. Florine made her way over to the central table, where several Elder Liches were transcribing her notes to the local administrative record.

“Have we received any response to our concerns on the western border, yet?”

“No,” Isoroku replied. “The central administration is still digesting the content of your report.”

“I see.”

She looked down at the map, lightly tapping her fingers on the table as she eyed the Roble Peninsula. A part of her chided herself for her impatience. She was utterly spoiled by how quickly things usually went in the Sorcerous Kingdom.

In Re-Estize, a village’s issues would normally have to wait until the local lord came around with their itinerant court. Even in an emergency, the information might take days to reach the local lord and then take weeks or months to reach the capital. Then, depending on the severity of the issue, it might take weeks or months to muster the appropriate response.

A nascent border dispute was unlikely to be recognised until it started affecting a fief’s productivity. If it wasn’t a problem that could be eliminated by hiring Adventurers, deliberations over a solution could take years. It was even possible that a resolution might never be achieved, as was the case with the Empire’s annual skirmish with Re-Estize.

Additionally, the Sorcerous Kingdom had certain issues inherent to its administrative apparatus. The Elder Liches that made up the bulk of it were by nature a sort of Undead mage. They were exhaustively trained through rote learning, which allowed them to function as cogs in a machine rather than as adaptable living administrators with the requisite Job Class Levels. Since nearly everything that she was throwing at them now was basically new and unknown without any specific procedures to follow, Florine had to be very gentle with the Elder Liches.

There was one thing that she would have liked a swift reply to, however – a question that she insisted be delivered directly to Lady Albedo:

Is Jaldabaoth really dead?

Some may have suggested that being made to wade through the aftermath of Jaldabaoth’s occupation in the Abelion Hills caused her to see his shadow in everything but Florine knew that this wasn’t the case. For lack of a better way to explain it, she had become sensitive to the evil motives that lurked behind the actions and schemes of others.

Perhaps she was always like that. Liane was her best friend, after all. That relationship proved invaluable to Florine in the Sorcerous Kingdom: a country where evil walked alongside good.

In the case of the Kingdom of Roble, the behaviours characteristic of Humans in crisis scenarios appeared to be absent. Generally speaking, when people were confronted with a sudden event carrying negative effects for the entire community, they would work to counteract it or at least mitigate its effects in some way. If a house caught on fire, a village would work together to put it out. People would rush to the scene of an accident. Moments of great crisis were at the same time moments of great generosity and sacrifice. The barriers that normally stood between people came down and levels of mutual trust became uncharacteristically high.

The Draconic Kingdom was an extraordinary example of how this core aspect of Human nature could be harnessed by a masterful social architect and amplified to legendary levels. Unlike the Baharuth Empire, the Draconic Kingdom’s institutions did not merely exist to empower the state: they were primarily designed to encourage and reinforce the most beneficial of Human behaviours, creating a ridiculously resilient high-trust society that could weather anything short of complete and utter annihilation.

While Roble was not ruled by a wise, benevolent Queen with generations of experience, they were still well-known to be a goodly nation that operated along the guiding principles of the Faith of the Four. Captain Ortega’s assertion that the common person, when hearing about the incidents flaring up in their country, initially found them unthinkable suggested that the expected crisis behaviours did exist at some point.

Since those behaviours could be reinforced, it stood to reason that they could also be undermined. Florine suspected that was exactly what was going on in Roble. Seeds of distrust were being purposely sown, turning what was supposed to be a time of mutually beneficial cooperation into one of antagonistic, zero-sum competition.

The problem was how uniformly rampant the problem seemed to be. It was far beyond the disparate moments of individual selfishness that might occur or even the machinations of a whole faction of ambitious aristocrats. Something was empowering corruption and moral decay on a national scale, striking at a time when Roble was too weak to defend itself from an attack of that nature. If the low-trust conditions being imposed on them continued for long, Roble would be plunged into a darkness far deeper than that which was rumoured to plague Re-Estize.

Beings such as Demons and Angels were said to be unconcerned with the material aspects of the world. Instead, their actions revolved around influencing spiritual health and moral character in a bid to win souls for good or evil. Jaldabaoth’s legacy in the Abelion Hills gave every indication that this was true. With this in mind, Florine suspected that the entire purpose of his invasion of the Holy Kingdom was not to destroy it, but to weaken it to the point where it could fall entirely to corruption.

As they were beings in a realm beyond mortal existence, ‘killing’ a Fiend was no guarantee that it would stay dead. More than a few Demons and Devils made multiple appearances in a wide variety of tales, sometimes appearing as destroyers; other times, tempters. There were even stories where Fiends assisted the heroes of legend for their own, inscrutable purposes.

A number of possibilities came to mind concerning the link between Jaldabaoth and what was going on in Roble. Foremost amongst them was the idea that, while Jaldabaoth himself had been defeated by the Sorcerer King, his agents remained. Reports from the war and tales carried by the Merchants who finally trickled into E-Rantel from the west asserted that Jaldabaoth had thousands of Fiends at his command. It was not impossible for more than a few to have infiltrated Roble after his defeat, especially if they were something like Shadow Demons or ones with shape-shifting capabilities. Furthermore, there were always people who desired power at the cost of all else who could be turned to his side.

Enough people in the wrong places – or the right places, depending on one’s perspective – and a concerted effort could be made to achieve the crumbling societal conditions that Captain Ortega alleged.

Florine could only imagine where those plans might take them. Though they might attempt it, preparing Roble to act as a foothold for a new demonic incursion would invariably draw the attention of the Sorcerous Kingdom. The moment that the Sorcerous Kingdom became aware of yet another demonic disturbance within its sphere of influence, it would get slapped out of existence.

With this in mind, she was forced to consider the notion that there was some even greater scheme in play. Perhaps Jaldabaoth, as powerful as he was, merely represented an aspect of an even greater threat. Maybe there was another being that he served and that being had many servants like him. They could be anywhere in the world, putting their fell schemes into play while the Sorcerous Kingdom remained unaware of their activities.

In that case, the downfall of the Holy Kingdom did not only eliminate a force for good, but also served as a distraction close to the heart of the Sorcerous Kingdom. The growing sickness in Roble was not one that could be cured through the raw might that the Sorcerous Kingdom was most well-known for and healing Jaldabaoth’s legacy would take up its time and attention.

However, even if this was going all according to some unfathomably fiendish plan, its architects were still taking risks. By enacting those plans, those that they were employed against could learn how to fight Demons. Fight them and win.

Hmm, that’s a pretty good line. With some work, I could adapt it to monologue in the future…

If she could ever get around to it. She wanted to get the next volume of Dreams of Red out before the winter, but her task in the Abelion Hills had likely dashed that hope.

“Allow me to remove your clothes, Lady Gagnier.”

“Eh?” Florine looked up from her thoughts, “Oh. But I thought you were getting something for the dust. Why do I need to remove my clothes?”

She turned to find the Vampire Bride with what she thought were garments over her arm. Florine eyed the sheer piece of cloth in the Undead handmaiden’s hands.

“That’s a veil, I suppose?”

Florine took the piece of cloth and held it in front of her nose and mouth. It didn’t seem like it would help. Was it a magic item? Her gaze went to the rest of the outfit on the Vampire Bride’s arm.

“Is that jewellery? Why are there tassels on the ends? I can’t figure out how it all goes together…”

In response, the Vampire Bride unfolded the clothing and held it over herself. Florine turned back around. Even over a postal officer’s outfit, it looked obscene.

“I’m not wearing that!”

“But you wore the same thing in the Draconic Kingdom…”

“I did not wear the ‘same thing’. The clothing there isn’t transparent.”

The Vampire Bride sighed.

“It would please our Mistress if you got into the spirit of things.”

“There’s nothing spiritual about that outfit! Let’s go. I should make my rounds before we head out again.”

A cloud of dust ambushed Florine the moment she left the pavilion again. She peered through her tears at the surroundings, wondering if mischievous Air Elementals spawned in the Abelion Hills, as well.

Florine headed east past the first security perimeter to her first stop, which was a stretch of river in the process of being expanded and dredged to create a new harbour. The Abelion River was relatively shallow and nearly a dozen cataracts made it unnavigable as it was, but it didn’t have to stay that way.

One of her first major initiatives was the chartering of a series of river ports from the Dale of Defiance to the Abelion Estuary, using locks and canals to facilitate river traffic. Given the next-to-nonexistent industrial development in the Abelion Hills, she couldn’t be sure how long it would take to make back the investment, but economic growth was not the main purpose of the project anyway. Like Ludmila, she intended to use trade as a way to connect people, facilitating the creation of a common regional culture.

By laying the foundations for a collective identity, it would become easier for the administration to develop policies that worked for the people of the Abelion Hills. It was far better than trying to force everyone to conform to Human norms and ending up with a towering mountain of problems entrenched in a system that was fundamentally incompatible with a multiracial society.

Also, the discovery of Roble’s looming issues did mean that the Abelion River made for an attractive transportation corridor to the sea for any exporter that wanted to avoid trouble. However, it didn’t sit well with Florine to consider those developments a stroke of good luck.

Along the way, they came across Boobeebee. The Zern hero was sitting in the shade of a stand of trees overlooking the riverbank.

“I’ve never seen Goblins do anything like this before,” Boobeebee said.

“There’s no rule saying that they can’t,” Florine replied.

Below them, a company of Goblin Engineers was milling about, overseeing the work of several hundred Undead labourers. A thick cloud of dust rose from their excavation work as they toiled under the late afternoon sun.

The Goblins were members of the same group that worked on the subterranean portion of E-Rantel’s Demihuman quarter. With the bulk of the work there coming to a close, they sought new contracts, but, unfortunately, couldn’t secure any. According to the Mountain Dwarves that had once laboured alongside them, it was because their work looked ‘dubious’ and pretty much everyone thought the same thing.

As Florine watched, she couldn’t help but agree. If the scene before her could be described in one word, it would be anxiety.

Phase one of the harbour project was the excavation of the harbour area itself. This was done before connecting the river to the harbour, making the worksite look like a small quarry. There was little to nothing in the form of scaffolding or bracing and nothing looked safe. The cleverly-interlocking stonework of the Dark Dwarves was already in place, forming the outline of the wharf. On one side of the harbour, an Iron Golem steadily drove pilings into the earth, making the ground shudder as it pounded away with its huge fists.

Goblins and Skeletons continuously moved about, forming a chaotic throng. They were all doing something, of course, but Florine couldn’t make any sense of it.

“That’s no good,” Boobeebee said.

“Hm?”

“The wall over there…”

Florine followed the line of the Zern’s spindly arm, eventually resting her gaze on the channel dug out to the river. With every strike of the Iron Golem’s fists, bits of soil loosened from the section that divided the harbour from the river, forming streams of dirt that ominously trickled to the ground.

After a few moments, the wall sprung a leak and slowly gave way. The Undead were oblivious to the fact that water was running underfoot and so were the Goblins. Then, the barrier collapsed entirely.

A collective shriek rolled down the harbour as Goblin and Skeleton alike were swept away, collecting in a pile on the far side. The line of Goblin foremen watching the catastrophe unfold from the wharf exchanged looks.

“Done?” One asked

“Done,” another answered.

“Done!” A third agreed.

The fourth foreman turned and walked up to Florine.

“Job’s done, boob lady.”

On the southwestern end of the harbour, the work crews untangled from one another and dragged themselves out of the mud. With the Abelion River being as shallow as it was during the summer, the water along the shore near the construction site couldn’t have been more than waist-deep…at least for Florine.

“Thank you for your hard work,” Florine smiled.

The foreman nodded and returned to his fellows. Next, would come the installation of the locks on the entrance channels. Though it was shallow right now, the Abelion River experienced seasonal flooding. As such, they used a scheme similar to Corelyn Harbour to allow for smooth cargo operations and to protect moored shipping.

“Is this truly safe?” Boobeebee asked, “While we Zern do not tunnel in watery areas, everything still seems haphazard.”

“It certainly feels that way,” Florine answered, “but they’ve worked for me before.”

For their part, the Goblins had absolute confidence in their own skills. Florine found that, no matter how crazy or hazardous their activities looked, they always worked out in the end to the disgusted disbelief of those who observed them.

The answer to the apparent conundrum, of course, stemmed from Job Class Levels. So long as one had the requisite Job Class Levels, one could cultivate the ability to complete the tasks associated with them. When it came to the Goblin Engineers, Liane eventually gave up trying to figure out what they were doing, summarising what was going on as ‘it just works’.

As if to further thumb its nose at common sense, data collected by the administration showed that, despite the frequency of workplace accidents experienced by the Goblins, the number of injuries sustained was no more than in any project run by Human construction crews. The time and materials lost through said accidents balanced out the time and materials saved by the practices that led to them.

All else being equal, there was practically no difference between a construction crew of Goblins and a construction crew of Humans aside from the ‘flavour’ of their work. And the peace of mind of those watching it. The Guilds were quickly losing theirs being confronted by this reality.

This gave Florine hope that anyone could participate in the Sorcerous Kingdom’s economy, should they develop any interest in it. Visiting the Orcs’ abandoned villages showed that at least basic levels of industry did exist amongst the tribes of the Abelion Hills. Slaves were terribly illiquid as far as commodities went, so, by introducing superior mediums of exchange it might be possible to get the regional economy going sooner than she had initially expected.

And then there are the Dark Dwarves…

She still wasn’t sure how she could get them on board. Falagim had agreed to ‘work’ with her, but he clearly wasn’t interested in what she was trying to achieve. They collected their pay for their time and talent and exchanged it for provisions. Aside from that, they attempted to leverage what they had to gain information and she wasn’t sure what they planned to do with it.

Florine turned away from the riverbank, heading toward the market proper – or at least its thus far empty shell. Out of some incomprehensible sense of suspicion, the Dark Dwarves still adamantly refused to take up residence while they worked and remained in their camp near the edge of the second security perimeter. At least they weren’t outright hiding from her anymore.

A sentry squinted out at her from beneath a covered post at the edge of the Dark Dwarf camp. Florine smiled in greeting, though she wasn’t sure whether he could see it.

“Good afternoon,” she said. “Is Master Falagrim available?”

The sentry turned away without a word, his steps uncertain. He nearly stumbled several times in the bright afternoon daylight. A few minutes later, he stumbled back again and sat back down at his shaded post as if nothing at all had happened, jerking his head over his shoulder.

If he’s actually a prince, shouldn’t they be protecting him better?

Then again, enough Undead were running around in the area to overrun Roble thirty times over or more, so maybe they felt that there was no point. They were so suspicious and distrusting of everyone that whatever they thought Florine was would have long wiped them out if she wanted to.

She found Falagrim in a partitioned-off area of the camp, which was in turn covered by a tarp and positioned on the north side of a stand of trees. The Dark Dwarf was sitting on a boulder with a stack of paper in hand. He didn’t look up when she came to stand at the entrance of his pavilion.

“What?”

“I thought I’d come by and see if you had any questions,” Florine said.

Shortly after returning from the western border, Florine offered several public documents on the off-chance that Falagim might be interested in learning more about the Sorcerous Kingdom. To her surprise, the Dark Dwarf took them. Then, he purchased some paper – he refused to take it for free – and ordered the casters in his camp to begin translating them.

“Might be that I do,” Falagrim rose to his feet and slapped the stack of papers with the back of his gauntlet twice. “What’s your game with this Undead lease agreement?”

“Game?” Florine blinked, “I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re referring to.”

Falagrim narrowed his eyes at her, then his moustache twitched as he snorted.

“At first, I thought anyone that took you up on your offer had to be a damned fool. Now, I wonder if this Sorcerous Kingdom of yours is just trying to split the world in half.”

“I assure you that the Sorcerous Kingdom has no such intention,” Florine replied. “Out of curiosity, may I know why you’ve come to suspect this?”

Florine leaned back as the Dark Dwarf raised the documents and shook them in front of her face.

“This,” he said, “is a Devil’s deal. Too much power is in the offering for too cheap a price…at least on the surface. Anyone that took this deal of yours is either a heedless fool or were in a situation where they decided that they had no choice.”

“Our current rates are low because we’re trying to break into the labour market,” Florine told him. “As I’m sure you know, there are certain difficulties that come with promoting Undead labour or security.”

“Hah! As I said, only a fool would buy that reasoning. Tell me: how many people from outside of your Sorcerous Kingdom have voluntarily come to lease your Undead? Without some extraordinary event forcing their hand?”

“…none, but that’s to be expected.”

“And how many came to lease your Undead due to events that your country engineered?”

“None!” Florine scowled, “The Sorcerous Kingdom does not have a policy of engineering events just so we can lease Undead. His Majesty the Sorcerer King is not some uninspired, low-rung Merchant desperately trying to peddle Skeletons, magical knickknacks, or anything else of the sort!”

Why did he always come up with the most horrid of notions? He was so grouchy and mean-spirited that she was amazed that he didn’t just shrivel up into a bitter, bearded husk purely on account of that.

“Well,” Falagrim seemed to reflect on his words, “I suppose that was a silly question. A country wouldn’t openly admit to that sort of thing, after all.”

“We just don’t do it!”

Falagrim fixed her with a look.

“How old are you, girl?”

“Fifteen,” Florine replied. “I’ll be sixteen in about four months.”

“Shouldn’t you still be in your crib? Since you were literally born yesterday, I’ll let you on to something: anyone with even the tiniest bit of power will do dirty things to keep it. From the lowest slave to the mightiest country. That, of course, also includes you.”

Florine stormed out of the Dark Dwarf camp. Her brief brush with Roble had already given more than enough vileness to deal with. She didn’t need to add to it by listening to such a dark and twisted soul. She took a long walk around the crater, stopping once again at the riverfront to watch the Goblin Engineers work, trying to shake her mind free of Falagrim’s foul assertions.

“Lady Gagnier,” Isoroku’s voice came from her side. “We have received a response to your report.”

Finally.

She hurried back to the administrative office and walked straight to her desk. She picked up the message written there. It appeared that Lady Albedo had taken the time to personally respond.

Baroness Gagnier,

Excellent work with your early detection of the nascent issues along the border. The matter of the Merfolk blockade has been addressed. Concerns revolving around the integrity of the buffer zone will require that we review the terms of our treaties with the Holy Kingdom of Roble, but the Royal Court of the Sorcerous Kingdom will recommend the immediate suspension of industrial development outside of the Great Wall.

As for the matter of Jaldabaoth: your suspicions are concerning, but we lack the information to make any conclusions on the nature of the Holy Kingdom’s domestic challenges or the extent of any potential post-war influence by Jaldabaoth or his agents. Foreign Affairs has been tasked to conduct an inquiry on the state of the Holy Kingdom of Roble.

– Albedo

Florine slowly took in a deep breath, releasing it with a slow nod of her head. Lady Albedo’s cool, decisive response worked wonders for Florine’s mental state.

The immediate issues looked like they were going to be resolved. It was obvious someone else would be dispatched to Roble – she already had a crucial assignment to handle, after all. With Foreign Affairs tasked to investigate matters, however, Florine could rest assured: out of anyone, Lord Demiurge probably had the best chance of figuring out what Jaldabaoth was up to.

Satisfied with Lady Albedo’s response, Florine started her preparations for the night. Now that things looked like they were back in relatively good order, she could redouble her efforts at her own task.