Disaster classes the cal.., p.35
Disaster Classes: The Calamitous Bob Book Five, page 35
So far, New Harrakan forces had only fought two ‘major’ engagements, if the term was even valid. The city battle had been a messy affair but relatively straightforward. Everyone had stayed together and moved in a line. The prince’s fall had been even simpler. Everyone had been placed somewhere to wait and charged when given a signal. Easy. Viv wanted them ready to maneuver in a real field battle. That would take a lot of training, especially with a lack of officers. She charged the surviving noble knight with this task and gave him the authority to select people he thought would perform best for promotion, after she and Solfis approved of course. With this, the army actually got off their asses to protect the population in a systematic manner.
That solved, they began to solve most immediate problems.
The next measure was less popular. They needed more money, so Viv raised taxes according to one of Solfis’s suggestions based on Harrakan enclaves on the South Sea Islands. It was a simplified system that let people pay in grain if they produced any, and mostly taxed high-value goods. It was widely tolerated since things were busy. People were simply too distracted.
On the fifth day, Irao came to visit Viv. For once, he knocked.
“It’s been a while. How are you, how are the Hadals?” Viv asked with a smile.
Irao paused to consider her question in silence for half a minute, his white, hairless face thoughtful. He stared at the ceiling with his slitted yellow eyes.
“I am concerned. The Hadals are doing well. Our numbers are increasing for the first time since the purge.”
“Errr, what are you concerned about then?”
“Do you mistrust me? Have I caused you anger?”
That surprised Viv quite a bit since it was the first time Irao had displayed any sign he cared what others thought about him.
“No. What makes you believe I am angry at you?”
“I refused to help Solar because he was quite rude and accused me of harboring the thieves.”
“I wish you had cooperated, yes, but I do not blame you for refusing after being insulted.”
“Then why are you not asking me to come with you?”
“You mean… the hunt?”
“Solfis and Solar are training to kill a necrarch. I saw them, I heard them, I recognized the gear. Why did you not ask me to help?”
“I… always assumed you didn’t want to fight unless your people were in danger.”
“I do not want to assassinate. Hunting is fine. Most of my people are hunters now. Why do you want to kill a necrarch?”
“I need its core to turn part elemental or my high attunement will kill me.”
“Then it is important. Ask me.”
“Irao, would you please come to hunt the necrarch with us?”
“Yes. It will be a good way to test my skills after a long time. I will cooperate with Solfis. It will be a good hunt.”
“Thanks.”
Viv felt genuinely better after that.
Solfis stood near the command table, which also happened to be in the tower’s receiving room next to an adequate supply of tea.
//A necrarch has a danger rating of seven according to the Imperial Monster Handling Repository.
//For reference, the maximum danger rating before cataclysm is seven.
//Although the notation itself is arbitrary, it reflects the extreme difficulty hunters face when engaging one.
The golem lifted three fingers, the movement strangely human—or it would’ve been if his claws were not quite so sharp.
//First, their intellect.
//Necrarchs are cunning.
//Baiting them using normal means will not work.
//Most traps will not work.
//Direct combat is required.
//Second, the battlefield.
//Necrarchs have a lair.
//They will be familiar with the location and extremely mobile within their chosen territory.
//They will also retreat if at a disadvantage, and possibly lay a trap.
//If wounded, they can retire to their lair to absorb stored energy and heal themselves.
//We must explore the place carefully while fending the creature off.
//Third, the necrarch’s combat abilities.
The golem moved to a side table and produced a long list, which he gave Viv.
//The most important aspect to remember, for you, is that you cannot possibly face it.
//A necrarch is faster than most fourth step dedicated warriors.
//A necrarch can take a punishing amount of damage while remaining at close to peak performance.
//A necrarch never tires.
//A nercrarch’s strength is enough to tear through heavy armor in a single body blow, gutting its victim.
//Most importantly, a necrarch can cast spells.
//Anyone under the fourth step or without significant resistance to black mana penetration will instantly die to those spells.
//In essence, numbers are meaningless against a necrarch.
//The necrarch will just use a victim’s life force to heal their wounds.
//Luckily, I have come up with a plan.
The golem pointed at a rudimentary map of the Lone Mountain based on Viv’s recollection.
//We will set up camp here near the entrance and wait for dawn before we enter.
//Necrarchs are more active at night.
//We will map the area.
//Once I detect the creature’s approach, we will stop at a chokepoint and face it.
“What makes you think it will attack us?”
//Necrarchs are territorial.
//They will attempt to defeat intruders quickly.
//Only if they fail to do so will they attempt other strategies.
“Could we not box it in?”
//The success of such a maneuver is uncertain.
//I would prefer to go for the safest solution.
//It might take several engagements, but we will corner it.
//Then Sidjin will trigger one of his signature spells on its retreat path.
“How confident are you that you can face it in battle?”
//This frame will keep up with it, although I could not defeat it alone.
//With Solar and now Irao, I am confident we can eliminate it, barring accidents.
//I have prepared black-mana resistant clothes for everyone except Irao.
//He assures me that the spells will not be an issue for him.
//I need to train some more with Solar and Irao, first to familiarize them with typical necrarch fighting styles, and second to improve our teamwork.
“We only have a short window. Will that be alright?”
//Very little work is required from combatants at the peak of their paths.
//We will be ready to move out very soon.
“What’s my part in all of this?”
//Your role is threefold.
//You are to assist and cover Sidjin while he works by reinforcing his shields.
//You are to set up a charging station to charge me using the ambient black mana near the lair.
//You are to absorb lingering spells to stop the necrarch from turning the environment against us.
“That works.”
//It goes without saying that you should not walk into harm’s way.
//This battle is completely beyond you.
“Understood. I’ll be careful.”
//I know you will.
//There was one last thing I wanted to ask.
“Hmmm?”
The golem showed a map of the area around Kazar this time, this one heavily annotated. On one side was Harrak huddled against the forest, with a tiny, tentacular network of small villages expanding from the city in cautious frog leaps. Father north and west was the vast expanse of relatively unknown Deadlands, leagues upon leagues of dusty hills hiding the decrepit husks of estates and hamlets filled to the brim with all manners of undead, many more dangerous than revenants. A desolate spot near a ridge was circled with black ink.
//This is the fortress city of Shinur’s Gate.
//It sits on a ridge and offers a good defense of the only easy path going farther inland from the edge of the forest.
//Unfortunately, it offers lesser protection against the undead, our main enemy.
//It is still the most defensible place we can hope to liberate within the next decade.
//With proper preparation, we can turn it into a fortified beacon from which we can attract nearby undead before they can form hordes.
//And before said hordes can fall on less defended villages.
“You want us to conquer a real city?”
//I prefer the term “retake”.
//And yes.
//There is an additional point of interest, beyond the facilities.
//Shinur’s Gate should still hold a great amount of manufacturing equipment, especially textile related.
//It should also hold over four thousand gold talents in a secure vault under the main bank.
“Ah.”
//We will need a lot of funds if we want to make use of the influx of refugees.
//This would be a good alternative to being in massive debt to the Manipeleso Bank and Exchange.
“Say no more, I am convinced.”
//Then I shall give the order to prepare.
Arthur stood on her hind legs, her head level with Mother’s as the extraordinary human focused on the next hunt.
It was a glorious prey. Arthur approved.
She knew the core would help Mother become whole. She just hoped she would see the trap Elunath had laid before her. Arthur had seen Elunath from the sky. He was a duplicitous entity that would seek to capture her, but Arthur was confident Mother would not let her wings be shredded.
Mother turned to see Arthur and smiled at her magnificence. Arthur demanded a horn massage and got it, though they did not tickle that much these days now that their growth had slowed.
It was just fun to see Mother zap herself on the excess mana.
After she was done, Arthur requested meat and got it, then she flew across the green fields to where Marruk was helping her kin settle down. Arthur’s domain was expanding under the tireless labor of her minions, as was proper.
The Kark herself greeted her as she approached and provided the requested pats as well as some more meat. It pleased Arthur to see the other Kark stay at a respectful distance.
After receiving homage from her human and her Kark, she considered her genius. The human she had helped had risen from lost, manaless whelp to queen. The Kark she had inspired had grown from a shy lone warrior to a gruff warband leader.
Obviously, Arthur was gifted with matchless management and mentoring skills.
It would be perfect for when she opened her own bank.
The future was golden.
Arthur took off to hunt for squirrels.
Chapter 121: The Local Talents
Viv watched the bewildered Harrakans exit her portal, spreading out on the open meadow and marveling at the wonders of magic she had just unveiled for them. Ten days of harrowing trekking across the Deadshield Woods spared. Ten days of terrifying encounters with monsters and beastling tides, with the forest’s disquieting effects, bypassed with the ease of a high-speed train ride minus travel time. They ambled out, blocking the way of those behind. Viv could still see the green on gray background of the Deadland behind the portal’s aperture. Mostly, she wished they’d hurry the fuck up because keeping that thing open was hard.
“Move, move!” Ban bellowed, and the selected merchants sheepishly dragged their cornudon-drawn carriages across the plain. The wooly beasts didn’t seem too bothered by the change of scenery, the most enterprising already grazing on unchewed grass.
Maybe they were simply too dumb to care.
Over the next minute, New Harrak’s first grand caravan trailed through the opening at a brisk pace. Its members had been selected among volunteers and path traders whose lives had taken a turn for the worse, forcing them to become refugees. Now, they had a second chance and many were eager to make a killing on the markets of Reixa and other Enorian cities. The only downside was that they would miss the harvest festival with their families. It was a huge deal Viv could sympathize with, as it seemed to be the local equivalent of Christmas or Eid or Hanukkah or the Spring Festival: a family celebration meant to gather relatives. It was too easy for her to forget that the Enorian people had vibrant traditions and a long history of their own when she still considered herself an outsider.
“Your Grace,” Ban said, his face twisted in a scowl.
The old soldier looked even grimmer and crustier than before, his muscles corded like steel wire under the heaviest armor the Yries had ever produced. He was also well along the fourth step, which made him one of humanity’s deadlier fighters.
[Tip of the Spear:
Commander of the first regiment, first company of the New Harrakan heavy infantry, the Heiress’s guard. Expert close-quarters combatant, unbreakable, tenacious, adaptative fighter, fast learner, loyal, Undead Slayer, Man Killer.]
A long, braided white beard fell from his helmet down to his navel, and white, embroidered pennants flew from his otherwise plain black steel armor. He looked much more respectable now than he used to, back when he had been a retired veteran. The fact that his entire suit had been enchanted to the gills by the smiths of Neriad helped with that as well, Viv suspected.
“Ban,” Viv greeted in return.
The old man had kept the Harrakan military in top shape through exacting training and even increased its numbers, though it had been a force without purpose, with no clear threats aimed at the nascent kingdom. Now, though, he would see action again.
“I believe you should let us come with you, as an honor guard.”
Viv shook her head. Ban had let his disapproval be known but had not voiced it until now.
“The heavies have plenty of strengths, but black mana resistance is not one of them. Trust me, it would be a waste to have you die against the necrarch. You are much better used escorting our very first caravan since the independence.”
“You said the roads are much safer now…”
“For Enorians, yes.”
It was time for a quick lesson in basic politics. Fortunately, there were similarities between Earth and Nyil mythologies.
“Look, Ban, you know how Maranor stands for justice here, yes? And her weapon is a sword, not a shield? How many law-bringers pick a sword as their symbol?”
“Hmmm.”
“Justice is not about protecting people, because it’s almost impossible to achieve. Would be nice though. Justice is about righting the wrongs after they have occurred. The Enorians will protect their own and punish marauding groups of bandits swiftly now that the war is over. If the victims happen to be foreigners, however…”
Understanding shone in Ban’s widened eyes. He had not been born yesterday.
“If the foreigners come from a separatist city that humiliated their army twice…” the old man continued.
“Then perhaps the local nobles will not look too hard into any mass disappearances. The local traders may bemoan the loss of opportunity, but most citizens might enjoy seeing us taken down a peg. Reminded of our place in the food chain, as it were. Now, if it were just a couple of caravan guards, the opportunists would probably take their chances. If, however, the caravan is defended by elite infantry and crossbowmen…”
“Then they will know that we will draw more blood that they can afford to shed.”
“It’s also about sending a message,” Viv continued. “They might still see us as lucky bastards saved by the Deadshield Woods. You are to prove them wrong.”
“We will be seen, Your Grace. They will know the New Harrakan heavy infantry has returned from the grave of history. We will be the tip of the spear.”
“Thank you, Ban, but most importantly… get my people home.”
“By your will. After that, I shall cleanse our new territory of undead presence.”
“Please do so. I want us to take Shinur’s Gate upon my return. No more delays.”
“Understood.”
The old man saluted, then left to direct people. Viv considered herself lucky to have dedicated people on her side. Her father had mentioned it several times. It was better to lead a team of competent people than be competent yourself. With this, she started to close her portal now that everyone had come through. To her surprise, someone else was waiting for her.
It was the town’s apothecary. Viv did not interact much with him on account of his dull and dour personality. He was good at his job and so Viv let him be, a favor he had been returning so far.
“Yes?” Viv asked.
“I should have asked before. I have an idea. I think it will work, but I will need three gold talents.”
Viv blinked. “Why don’t you start from the beginning?”
“You have a population control problem.”
The dry delivery left Viv nonplussed. She had not expected this sort of insight from a medieval shopkeeper, which proved once again that she should check her arrogance.
“I… suppose we do?”
“You do. The refugees who just came here know they should wait before expanding their families, at least until their farms and businesses are up and running. The female soldiers must be able to decide not to be with child just before a major operation. People need to be able to plan. I saw you had a ring. Rings are expensive. Potions are not.”
“I’m listening.”
The man stepped closer. “Do you know of the Golden Order?”
“Yeah, I studied them. They are a knightly order of women dedicated to Enttiku, the goddess of death. Stationed on the Glastian Wall right now.”
“Those women have sex and they regulate the births by using a combination of two potions, one that stops the moon cycle and another that makes them bleed. Now, the bleeding potion’s main ingredient is called the Heart Grass and it grows freely everywhere, but the cycle one is more important, because the bleeding potion only works for a little while after the pregnancy has started. Once the bun is in the oven, pardon my Baranese, it is too late for the ‘oops draught’. Now, I know the apothecaries in Reixa have seeds and sprouts of the Moon Disc flower. I need the money to purchase them.”
