Valkyrie's Shadow-Chapter 6Before the Storm: Act 10,

Chapter 6

With evening fast approaching, the court of Lady Xoc underwent a striking change in atmosphere. The trees crowning the massive hill cast murky shadows over dark, weathered stone that seemed to absorb the light of the clear skies overhead. From within those shadows, mixed with the transient specks of daylight filtering through the leaves, countless sets of shining eyes watched as Ludmila and her people approached.

It was a reception that even those with Darkvision would find daunting. To a Human, it may as well have been a scene from a nightmare.

“Miss Gran,” Ludmila said, “put the wands away.”

Nemel whimpered in protest, but the wand she was gripping in each hand vanished under her mantle before the Ocelo silently padding in their direction reached them. The Beastman rose to its full two-metre height as it came within a few metres.

“I am Cha’ac,” the Ocelo said in a deep voice, “an elder of the Pa’chan Clan. Rumours mentioned that our guests were more than just Humans, but I am unfamiliar with any of their appearances.”

“Dame Verilyn mentioned that those deep in the jungle have had no contact with races other than those of your confederation,” Ludmila said. “This is Kestris Esses, Chieftain of the Winterscale Lizardmen. This is Dyel Gan Zu, Chieftain of the Gan Zu Orcs.”

The two offered terse greetings as they were introduced. Ludmila gestured to the column of Goblins behind her.

“These green-skinned fellows are known as Goblins,” she said. “Their leader is Miss Gran here.”

“A Human?”

Nemel shifted under her mantle as dozens of slitted eyes focused on her. Ludmila placed a calming hand on her shoulder.

“Yes,” Ludmila replied. “Many races call our kingdom home, so you’ll notice a few differences even between our Humans and those you’ve already come to know.”

“You say that, yet the reason why you have come is precisely what Master Leeds and his people have been promoting.”

“It sounds like you take issue with their activities.”

Cha’ac issued a low growl, flicking his ear several times.

『I’m getting mixed messages here.』

『Hm? Ah, the Beastmen here flick their ears like that as an expression of annoyance. Overall, it’s a sigh of frustration.』

That was a sigh?

“Is there anything particularly troubling?” Ludmila asked.

“It isn’t any one thing,” Cha’ac answered. “It’s everything. You call them Merchants, but they are unlike the Merchants of our people. At first, we accepted them out of necessity. Now, their shadow can be sensed behind all of the clan’s activities.”

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“Are you saying you’ve become involved in a power struggle with the Guilds?”

The Ocelo elder fell silent, the tip of his tail twitching over the broken pavement. After a moment, he gestured for them to follow him deeper into the courtyard.

“Clan elders do not seek power,” he said. “Our role is to serve our communities and guide the people under our care to the best of our ability. The Humans – that is, Master Leeds and his followers – are very assertive about their ways. They are not openly rude, but…Countess Xoc brought them to the city, intending to have us learn from them. We admit that their artifice is superior to ours in many ways, but it seems they have taken this to mean that they are superior to us in everything. They think little of what we say or do unless it serves their purposes.”

“This sounds familiar to what happened with you earlier this week,” Chief Gan Zu said. “If these Merchants are similarly weak, they could declare war on the Guilds as you did.”

Cha’ac stopped and turned to look at them, tail raised.

“W-War? That seems a bit extreme…”

“While Chief Gan Zu’s assessment may be accurate,” Ludmila said, “Clan Pa’chan is not in the position to wage an economic war as House Zahradnik has.”

“What is an ‘economic war’?” The Ocelo elder asked.

“A conflict waged with the objective of putting economic pressure on one’s adversary,” Ludmila answered. “This may be done through violent or non-violent means. Using that pressure, may force concessions or discourage undesirable behaviours.”

“I see.”

They reached an especially well-maintained patch of pavement at the base of one of the blocky pyramids surrounding the courtyard. Cha’ac gestured for them to take their seats in the area. As they did, the other Beastmen in the courtyard stalked closer.

“In that case,” Cha’ac said, “is there–”

A high-pitched bleat interrupted the Ocelo elder. Vltava appeared from behind the nearest pyramid and trotted over to hop onto Ludmila’s lap. Pebble and Pinecone emerged a few seconds later, but they were content to watch the proceedings from the shadows of the trees. Cha’ac and the other elders stared at the ball of fluff, who yawned before curling up in Ludmila’s arms.

“You were saying?” Ludmila asked.

“Er…I’m afraid my thoughts have escaped me.”

Ludmila scratched Vltava under his chin. Maybe the elder was getting too elderly.

“We should develop a mutual understanding before anything else,” she said. “Addressing any problems without it may lead to further issues.”

“Yes, that would be prudent,” Cha’ac said as he settled onto his paws. “We know little of the world outside of our jungle, yet it feels that every visitor sees fit to tell us how things should be. Are our people truly so primitive in the eyes of outsiders?”

“I suppose that depends on how one measures the differences,” Ludmila replied. “Broadly speaking, the region of the world we reside in is considered an unimportant backwater, so it isn’t just Rol’en’gorek that visitors look down on. If you can communicate with outsiders without hearing their speech as a patchwork of unintelligible noise, then it means that they aren’t so far removed from you that their conceptual framework has become alien to yours.”

“What if they’re purposely structuring their speech so that we may understand them?” One of the elders asked, “For instance, Vltava there is very difficult to understand even when he speaks simply. It’s as if what we hear only barely scratches the surface of his meaning.”

“The Krkonoše are an ancient people,” Ludmila admitted. “They don’t even normally speak in the manner that you and I do. Have your people encountered anyone else like them?”

“No. The only other visitors we received recently was a group from the Beastman Confederacy. Even they recognised the Krkonoše as a people who were far more advanced than they.”

That much, at least, was a relief. A relief and a revelation. It was unanimous between visitors and returning travellers that their region was a primitive one. It was also said that the major powers in the central areas of the continent – which included the Beastman Confederacy – stood at the pinnacle of the world’s civilisations. The fact that they recognised the ancient nature of the Krkonoše despite their mostly unassuming guise lent credence to a theory that she had developed ever since her visit to Lagaš.

In a world where unprecedented calamities could wipe out entire empires with little to no warning, any civilisation that grew too substantial stood an increasing chance of being arbitrarily obliterated as time passed. The Krkonoše had avoided this by living in a remote part of the world’s ‘backwater’. Not only did they choose an out-of-the-way dwelling place, but the way that they lived suggested that they were little more than nomadic family units not even qualified to be called tribes.

By all accounts, the strategy worked. They claimed that their society had existed for aeons and she couldn’t imagine the number of civilisations they had seen rise and fall.

“Did you have similar difficulties understanding your guests from the Beastman Confederacy?” Ludmila asked.

“Nowhere near as much,” Cha’ac said. “They occasionally used terms that meant nothing to us, but they weren’t a major obstacle to communication.”

“I should also say that some unknown terms exist not because they are beyond your knowledge, but simply because there is not an accurate enough translation for them. This changes from person to person depending on their experiences.”

“Could you provide an example of this?”

“I can. Take the titles of your leaders, for instance. Originally, they were an ‘unknown term’ to me. After that, I equated them to my people’s system of aristocratic ranks. Then, Dame Verilyn informed me that I was wrong to do so and each rank had a different meaning from the ones I’m used to using. At the same time, there doesn’t seem to be any problem translating our titles to yours.”

“So you are not Baroness Ludmila?”

“She is,” Ilyshn’ish said, “and she is not. Her society’s title for Baroness is Baroness, but your title for her covers a range of ranks from tribal chieftain to Viscount in the terms of her society.”

The elders regarded Ilyshn’ish curiously as she spoke.

“Why do Humans have so many ranks?” Cha’ac asked, “Also, who are you?”

In response, Ilyshn’ish assumed her Krkonoše appearance. The abrupt shift in the size of her body pushed Ludmila aside. Ilyshn’ish leapt away with a yowl as Vlatava bit her upon being disturbed. Many of the elders rose to their feet, wide-eyed at the scene.

“W-Winter Moon? I never realised you were a Human.”

“I’m not a Human,” Ilyshn’ish said testily as she rubbed her leg with a paw. “I wasn’t even a Human, I was a Snow Elf. As for your first question, I find that the more populous a race is, the more ranks they need to organise their society.”

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『How do I fix this rank mistranslation thing? It’s annoying now that I know it’s happening.』

This was especially the case since she had heard the original titles during the initial stages of the Sorcerous Kingdom’s intervention in the Draconic Kingdom.

『That may be more difficult than it seems. What you’ve come up with may be stickier than expected because the original title isn’t one that Humanoids can vocalise in the first place. Ironically, if you do figure it out, whatever garbled approximation you come up with for the title will be perfectly translated to anyone from Rol’en’gorek.』

『I haven’t thought that far yet. I just want to stop hearing the wrong thing.』

“Chief Esses; Chief Gan Zu, what’s your understanding of Rol’en’gorek’s ranks?”

“Makes sense to me,” Chief Esses said. “To the Lizardmen of the Great Lake, a chief is a chief is a chief. We only started using ‘high chief’ after the tribes allied to form one village.”

“Most tribes in the Abelion Hills just had chiefs,” Chief Gan Zu said. “Once in a while, a powerful individual might take leadership and style themselves a king over many tribes.”

『That would be the equivalent of an ‘il-en’ in Rol’en’gorek, which is the equivalent of anything from a Count to a King in your terms.』

『So like the petty kings of old.』

『How old is ‘old’?』

『After the Demon Gods were defeated. The Humans migrating from the Theocracy lay claim to the ruins and the most powerful asserted their rule over dozens of petty kingdoms. That period did not last long, however. House Vaiself conquered the area covering modern-day Re-Estize and Baharuth, consolidating everything to establish the Kingdom of Re-Estize. Many of the great houses in both the Kingdom and the Empire are descended from those old kings.』

『Psh. You need to go back at least a few centuries before being considered old. Some of my siblings were already around when these kings were alive.』

Ludmila rolled her eyes before turning her attention back to the discussion at hand. Ilyshn’ish’s note about the use of ranks in a society suggested much about the Beastmen given Ludmila’s experience with them. Despite not having what a local Human would recognise as the trappings of an empire, Rol’en’gorek appeared to be just as organised – if not more so – than the Baharuth Empire. What made it even more remarkable was that it managed this despite being several times larger.

The question was how to rally the confederation just as it so quickly had against the Sorcerous Kingdom’s forces.

“Since we’re on the topic of leadership,” Ludmila said, “What have the other clan heads done to address the challenges you now face? Have there been any concerted efforts to mitigate the damage? At least from my perspective, this shouldn’t be a situation where the Merchant Guild becomes so dominant. They are quite averse to instability.”

“There has been a unified response,” Cha’ac said, “we currently face two major problems. The first is the extended flooding and its impact on our food supply. The second is the escalation of hostilities by the Jorgulan Commonwealth in the east.”

“I’ve heard a bit about this,” Ludmila said. “You are sending extra mouths to the conflict to alleviate the food shortage.”

“That’s common sense,” Chief Gan Zu crossed his massive arms. “If there’s no food, then you must look outside of your territory for it. An active conflict is the ideal remedy. The weak will perish and trials faced by the people will make them stronger.”

“That is indeed the rationale of the warrior clans,” Cha’ac said. “Every day, their vessels bear more people up the river to challenge their fates on the Jorgulan Frontier. It is the method we have always known and it has not failed us thus far.”

“Yet, not everyone is a warrior,” Ludmila noted. “Are your civilians also sacrificed on the altar of war?”

“Yes, this is still mostly the case. If there are too many artisans relative to the population, the work that remains will be spread thin and they will starve anyway.”

The Beastmen’s unflinching acceptance of brutal truths was far different from the response one would usually find in Human society. Rather than let major problems fester, they acted to remove them before everything buckled under the strain. In that sense, the leaders of Rol’en’gorek were more like the members of the Sorcerous Kingdom’s Royal Court than they were like the Humans they ruled over.

“You mentioned that it’s ‘mostly the case’,” Ludmila said. “Has something changed?”

“The way that our clan is contributing to the war effort differs from what was done before,” Cha’ac replied. “The last offensive of this magnitude by the Jorgulans was in my grandparents’ time. Back then, there was little done to distinguish who went and who stayed. Now, however, industrial contribution is factored into our overall war potential. Those who can aid the Confederation’s efforts through their skills as an artisan remain to do so.”

“How did this shift in your wartime conduct occur?”

Cha’ac fell silent, exchanging long looks with the other elders gathered nearby.

“You seem different from the other Humans,” he said. “Even from those introduced alongside you. Why is that?”

“It’s probably because I am a member of the martial nobility,” Ludmila replied. “The lord of a warrior clan, by your reckoning.”

“Then I will say that it is because we weren’t ready to send warbands to the front,” the Ocelo Elder told her. “When I look back on what happened, I still can’t believe how our clan’s current operations came to be. When the warrior clans first arrived to ferry people to the east, it was only through a promising endorsement that we were granted time to prepare. As you may know, our clan had only recently established itself, so this meant we were given years to train proper warbands to join the war effort.”

“Years? How far away is the Jorgulan Commonwealth?”

“It is on Rol’en’gorek’s eastern frontier, so further from us than we are from our western frontier.”

“I’m amazed that the warrior clans can fight for that long,” Ludmila said.

The Baharuth Empire could sustain a major conflict within its borders for a month or two before things deteriorated into fragmented, smaller-scale efforts. It would only last for a fraction of that time if it was fighting outside of its borders. This was one of the main challenges faced by their newly formed expeditionary army. Operations of that scale weren’t simply an exercise of military might, but also a manifestation of economic endurance and political will.

Then again, different races had different requirements when it came to waging war. Smiths weren’t necessary when everyone had natural arms and armour. Supply chains were simplified when every enemy was a potential meal.

“Conflict with the Jorgulans is a regular occurrence,” Cha’ac said. “It is as inevitable as the coming and going of the rains. The northern frontier is just as dangerous, though nowhere near as organised. Rol’en’gorek has long adapted to these realities. The innovations being fostered by the Pa’chan Clan will hopefully shift things in our favour.”

“Do these innovations have anything to do with the knowledge and artifice being passed on to you by Master Leeds and his people?”

“They would mean nothing without the leadership of Countess Xoc and our people! Sometimes, I feel like they’re little more than ticks infesting what’s already been established and claiming credit for our achievements.”

“Could you expand on what you mean by that?” Ludmila asked.

“It’s simple,” the Ocelo Elder said. “They take advantage of the infrastructure we’ve built and trade routes our people already ply. Our clan’s leadership does all the work in enlisting the cooperation of the other clans.”

“This already sounds like a familiar tale,” Ludmila smiled slightly. “Human lords and their subjects do the same, yet Merchants often come in with an attitude suggesting they are the ones doing everyone a favour and that nothing would function without them.”

“Precisely! That’s the very stance Master Leeds takes. He and his people owe their very survival to us, yet they make it seem like it’s the other way around.”

Voices of agreement reverberated throughout the court. It was a scene that could have just as easily occurred in a gathering of Human Nobles.

『How much attention have you been paying to this conflict?』

『I’m more interested in observing how their story develops. Broadly speaking, the resistance to change is not much different from what I witnessed in the Empire. It’s reliable enough to be considered a rule.』

『There are good reasons for that. The Merchant Guild seeks to supplant traditions that have served Rol’en’gorek reliably for generations and by all accounts are still very much relevant.』

『I wonder about that. Your friends would probably say those traditions are barely sustainable.』

『My friends are, well, they’re Merchants. When left to their own devices, Merchants tend to operate under the assumption that the system they developed is the only one that matters.』

This didn’t make them one-dimensional, but it did leave everything they did full of vulnerabilities. It rarely occurred to them that a single set of rules couldn’t be applied to everything and that events could exist beyond reason or prediction. In the case of the conflict between the Confederation of Rol’en’gorek and the Jorgulan Commonwealth, Ludmila was inclined to favour the decisions of those who understood its realities over a group of newly arrived Merchants who only assessed limited information according to what they considered economic prosperity. Without security to ensure order, all else was subject to the whims of anyone who possessed power over others.

“Have you been opposed to the advances of the Merchant Guild from the very beginning?” Ludmila asked.

“No,” Cha’ac answered. “Their ways were alien to us, but we were willing to cooperate regardless. What we didn’t understand at the time was that they would perceive our trust as permission to do as they pleased.”

“Lady Xoc mentioned that the cityfolk aren’t exactly traditional compared to those living elsewhere.”

“She speaks truly,” the Ocelo elder admitted. “But that only makes things more frustrating. The rise of our clan creates the opportunity for us to restore a sense of identity and belonging to the people. Instead, we find ourselves in a losing battle for their attention. The ways of this ‘Merchant Guild’ are expedient and satisfy self-interest. It resonates too strongly with people who have lived lives where one is forced to look out for oneself.”

“Out of curiosity, how strong are the social instincts of each race dwelling here?”

“Social instincts?”

Ludmila glanced at the different races gathered around the courtyard.

“Yes, such as familial instincts or how much one naturally values their group’s well-being. Many assume that Beastmen act in a similar manner to the animals they resemble, but that may not necessarily be the case.”

“I can’t say I’ve ever seen an animal that resembles an Ocelo,” Cha’ac said, “but social instincts vary between our races. Nar and Ocelo are the most individualistic while the other races have stronger group instincts…at least between their own races.”

“So the clans and the Confederation were something that had to be developed rather than naturally arising as the product of instinct?”

“Perhaps in part,” the Ocelo elder said. “The races of Rol’en’gorek have coexisted for as long as any of our histories can tell. I wouldn’t be surprised if we learned from each others’ behaviours over time and found benefit in them. All I can say is that the existence of clans and the Confederation as a whole has been considered a normal thing since time immemorial. Why do you ask?”

“Because the norms of a society are fundamentally the result of how its members interact with their environment,” Ludmila replied. “I was wondering whether there were any natural tendencies in each race that made them more likely to be swayed by the systems of the Merchant Guild.”

Once again, the Ocelo elder exchanged silent looks with his fellows.

“We’ve never thought to gauge things that way,” one of them said. “All we can say is that every new ‘apprentice’ is from the city. Those from the outlying tribes show little interest in what the Humans are doing beyond obtaining tools or other useful goods.”

“I can’t agree with the idea that we may be weak against Master Leed and his ways,” another elder said. “Our Merchants and artisans have never acted this way before!”

“Then how did they act?”

“They served their role in the community,” the elder replied, “just as a warrior or mystic serves their role. A Merchant travelled abroad to obtain needed supplies while distributing any surplus. It was honest work.”

“Are they not being honest now?” Ludmila asked.

The elder bore her glistening fangs in answer.

“They are encouraged to gain as much as possible in every exchange. Not out of necessity, but simply because they can. Exploiting ignorance and need – how can that be considered honest? Such behaviour can only lead to chaos and misery for all.”

“As you’ve heard,” Cha’ac said, “what they’re doing is clearly wrong. Do you know of a way to fight this contagion infecting the hearts and minds of our people?”

“I assume you’ve taken up your grievances with Lady Xoc…”

“Yes, of course.”

“And her response?”

“That our situation demands we continue on our current course,” the Ocelo elder replied. “Realistically speaking, it is the correct answer, but we fear what we will become in the process of trying to survive.”

“You are wise to worry over the outcome,” Ludmila said. “But tell me, what is your goal? Do you believe that your return as a warrior clan demands a return to tradition?”

Cha’ac looked down at the broken pavement as he kneaded his claws against the dark stone. After several moments, he released his growly sigh.

“Even we understand that this is impossible,” he said. “We only fear being powerlessly swept away by the currents of change.”

“In that case,” Ludmila smiled, “there is someone far better suited to helping you than I.”