The Fey Conquest, # 21— "Malcontent and the Fort Golem Campaign"

[Short stories. Images generated by hotpot.ai. PENDING KICKSTARTER, see bottom for details.]

Maka’s procession was swelling in numbers, as militia from the surrounding villages joined their number. One of these was the Villagers of the Toad Esper, which were a numerous and ugly people with vile rituals, having chosen Grung, the dark esper of their region and his vassalaries, over the weak but benevolent Silver Toad espers.

They did things like drown the losers in eating contests of foul animals, and receive warts in exchange for numerous children, who were likewise ugly, stunted, and repugnant.

Maka was murderous with rage when Skerrit, Warren, and a small collection of other elders, mages, and clergy deliberately attempted mutiny over her decision to send the Toad Villagers back the way they came.

Skerrit was the instigator of the rebellion, using his eminence as a priest and an elder to pose as a voice of reason to an irascible, naive, purist of a leader, Maka.

Skerrit, along with his admirers, never had a useful suggestion as to how to best confront the invaders, while Dr. Karval, Naori, a number of Lancers and poor Japheth were the only ones who gave productive counsel. Her favorite Lancers did not have any hopeful advice as to stopping the invaders, but they thankfully would follow her and Emeriss Karval’s instructions.

Meanwhile, with obvious hubris, Skerrit believed all decisions beyond the choice of breakfast should be called into question in the name of Caution and ‘Examination’. Regarding the Toad Villagers, Skerrit did not deign to convene with any of them, believing this to be beneath his station, but all the same derided Maka and Karval’s decision to refuse their numbers, which would purportedly prove useful if only someone (but not Skerrit) could make use of their potential contributions.

“You dared question my decision just because you weren’t the one who thought of it!” Maka said stridently.

Skerrit sputtered, “All those recruits w-were simply thrown to the Langolier, rather than artful collaboration!”

No one had actually been given to the Langolier, though Maka suggested that was where they should go.

“What would we use them for, besides winning a cicada-eating contest!?” cried Maka.

“Their numbers were beyond any Village’s contribution since we departed the Monastery!”

“They brought shovels, staves, and pitchforks for weapons,” said Japheth.

“But to assume the pretense that we could afford to refuse them!” he said, leaving the rest unsaid.

Maka was nearly crippled with outrage.

Naori said quietly, “A tiger is not concerned with the presence of toads, no matter how many.”

Warren laughed derisively, though it was not clear who he was laughing at.

An admirer of Skerrit, Venerable Gothas, remarked, “The poison of a toad is lethal, if we were to but utilize it.”

‘Utilize’ was the buzzword, thanks to Skerrit.

“Analogies,” said Doctor Karval dismissively, “carry only so far. What if we were the ones ingesting the poison?”

Warren laughed, still unclear as to who he was laughing at.

Gothas pressed on, “The Rune Lord has subsumed our people and is preparing them for battle. If only we would do the same.”

This he said with pointed melodrama.

Maka balked and said, “He also burns the Villages he doesn’t like!” and then added, “Which makes more sense than not making any choices at all!”

“Don’t get so excited, my dear,” said Skerrit paternally, “I only want you to proceed with caution.”

There was just enough love in him for her to tolerate his seditious nature. She was beginning to see why Leonyde had forsaken Iceglass. Skerrit could not, inwardly or otherwise, separate his desire to help with his ego, especially since Karval was worlds better at his job, and that Maka by necessity slighted Skerrit in order to see through her responsibilities as leader.

“Excited!?” said Naori with wrath, “This is sedition! All so we’ll keep raising you on a pedestal!”

Warren laughed again, and from there the coherence of the ‘conversation’ descended into discord, anger, and derision. By the end of the day, Maka’s nerves were frayed, and she was more emotionally taxed than hearing the news of the fall of one township after another. She knew, from her scrying, that even Weez could be killed with a simple blow to the head, while her soft-handed counselors required a literally never-ending explanation as to why they shouldn’t question their own choices, while offering no meaningful solutions of their own.

Meanwhile, Swain was now months away from reaching the proximity of The Fortress of the Golem. The Fey auxiliaries, who now proved to be the bulk of his forces, conveyed deferent anticipation as to how Swain intended to conquer Golem Fortress. After one victory after another, they had a communal spirit of faith in the Conqueror, even more so than his countrymen.

The conventional and ruthless thing to do would be to storm it, using Fey Folk as the first to scale the walls, then replacing them with the captives awaiting them in the fortress.

Siege weapons took time to build, and he had virtually no time to build them, as The Fletcher might take it in mind to attack from the rear. Further, he had no career engineers in his number.

But they had many other tools at their disposal, thanks to the runes. Among his collection, Swain had obtained a precious Rune of Inspiration, and in exchange for a day of exhaustion, the power of the esper that was fused with his body revealed the answer.

“Krest. Mouth. Bring me the other wizards and clerics, along with the mage adepts among the Fey.”

A conference of Swain, the two Garyfs, and the strongest wielders of ethereal energy took place, removed from the rest of the army.

There were only five career wizards from Ivalice, including Krest. Likewise, besides Numyst, there were only seven clerics of Zakarum. The mage-adepts among the Fey were more attuned to wielding runes than Swain’s countrymen, even though they were originally more reluctant to wield it. These gatherings would one day be called Ether Councils.

“It’ll take months to prepare,” said Krest, “and it’s doubtful that we should mix the divine energies of Zakarum.”

“And why is that?” said Swain.

“It would take a long time to explain,” said Krest.

“Wielding the arcane is a precarious business,” said Numyst, “Every wizard takes a risk by wielding it.”

Garyf the Poleman said, “And that doesn’t happen as a war priest?”

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” said Jarepp, another wizard, “But our powers are deadlier than the clergy for a reason.”

“I see,” said Swain, “so despite the risks of choosing the arcane, the clerics will just get in the way.”

“No offense,” said Krest.

“Right,” said Garyf, “So absent the clerics, can you be ready before we reach Golem?”

“We can,” said Krest, and with the spirit that made him trusted by Swain, he said, “and we will.”

“Excellent,” said Swain, “your task takes priority in the next month or so. Take whatever you need, even if it means more cheddar.”

“Ah,” said Krest, “Do we have any hot pepper jelly?”

From there, the magic-users of The Rune Lord’s army set about a secret undertaking for seizing Golem Fortress.

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