Valkyrie's Shadow

Stone and Blood: Act 1, Chapter 10

Stone and Blood: Act 1, Chapter 10

Chapter 10

“Yo, Baroness. I heard that you just got back yest…”

The imposing figure of Chief Esess filled the doorframe and froze. His gaze went down to the Orc on the floor of Ludmila’s hall.

“Oh, good,” Ludmila said. “I was just starting to go over the basic laws and regulations with Dyel here. Would you like to–”

Chief Esess vanished. Florine blinked and rubbed her eyes.

“It seems that he’s gotten stronger,” Ludmila noted. “He wasn’t able to run away that quickly before.”

Do Ludmila’s vassals usually run away from her? And is the reason why they get stronger to escape her?

Florine couldn’t deny the possibility.

“Maybe that was too much to take in all at once,” Florine idly stroked a vine that had crawled up onto her lap sometime during Ludmila’s lecture.

“Both Chief Esess and Dame Verilyn survived,” Ludmila told her.

How many times did they faint?

She imagined the limp tail of a comatose Frost Dragon sticking out of the manor window. While it was undeniable that Ludmila’s way of conveying herself to other races was efficient, she was also about as tactful as a falling tree. Then again, there was little appreciation for Human eloquence when it came to dealing with the wilderness tribes.

On the floor, Dyel stirred and pushed himself up onto an elbow.

“…what happened?”

“We were talking about the common law of the Sorcerous Kingdom,” Ludmila said.

The Orc rubbed his jaw. He had fallen straight forward and onto his face. Florine was worried that he might have broken his snout, but it appeared that he had landed differently from how she thought.

“That’s right,” he said. “Something about tribute? Except different tributes go to different places and do different things?”

“Your people don’t have taxes,” Ludmila said, “so tribute is the closest approximation. You’ll come to understand their workings in time. My primary concern was to avoid any accusations of dishonest trade and what might result from them.”

As far as the Orcs were concerned, trade was an uncomplicated thing. They exchanged their limited surplus for what they needed and that was it. There was no regulation, no infrastructure, and no security that required taxes to maintain. The Orcs had no idea what accounting was and they lacked advanced inventory management skills. Reading, writing, and arithmetic were nonexistent. Everything was done off the top of their heads without the benefit of Human-style education.

That being said, they didn’t seem to commit much in the way of errors, if any. Each Orc did what they were supposed to do according to what they were, making it a testament to the Job Class system and how it worked even without the trappings of Human society.

?It’s a good thing they can’t read and write.?

Florine turned a puzzled look at Ludmila.

?Why is that??

?Because most people can only learn one language.?

?Ah, that’s right…?

It was an odd piece of trivia most of the time, as the translation mechanism of the world allowed people to get by with a single language and the vast majority didn’t travel extensively. No matter how hard one tried, one couldn’t learn more than one language unless one possessed certain vocations. Nobles, Bards, Sages and other classes along those lines made up the majority of those who could. Arcane casters usually employed a spell to translate foreign script for them, while priestly classes could learn additional languages under the notion of it being for religious education and evangelism.

?Wait, what about the Elder Liches??

?They don’t actually know Re-Estize script. All of the Elder Liches know the same language that the Sorcerous Kingdom’s inner circle knows, plus they are proficient in ‘Evil Tongues’.?

?Evil Tongues??

?I don’t know why they call it that. It’s a strangely Human distinction, now that I think about it. They understand the languages of any races that Humans generally perceive as ‘evil’. Goblins, Ogres, Trolls, Fiends, Undead – Thieves’ Cant, too – I found that out by accident.?

?How did that happen??

?Nonna’s notebook is usually indecipherable, but I was suddenly able to read it after I became a Revenant. Proficiency in Evil Tongues seems to be something that intelligent Undead get by ‘default’ as a Racial Job Class Ability. Iškur said he had the ability from the moment he manifested.?

?But you’re not evil or anything like that…?

?As I mentioned, it’s a strangely Human distinction. Even Miss Alpha has the ability and I don’t think anyone can claim that she’s evil. The ability does create a troublesome pretence, however.?

?What would that be??

?It’s something like a built-in predisposition for the Undead to get along with ‘evil’ individuals more easily than good ones because they don’t need the world’s translation mechanism for the former. Anyway, Re-Estize script isn’t an ‘evil tongue’, so the administration’s Elder Liches brute-force everything using a codex. If you throw in an obscure word that isn’t in it, they’ll go crazy between wondering what the word is and putting up the pretence of infallible comprehension.?

No one ever threw random obscure words into their reports since it was essentially asking for mistakes to be made, so Florine figured that was why she never noticed. As Ludmila had noted, the Elder Liches had a weird sort of professional pride despite ‘administrator’ not being their original profession, so they rarely, if ever, admitted not knowing something they believed that they should.

?Wait, does that mean you torment your Elder Liches??

?Why would I do that??

?Oh, you can’t fool me. You love teasing other people.?

?Well, I did test the extent of their comprehension quite a bit, at first. It was purely out of professional interest, however. The way that they act is so overtly pretentious that I had to figure out what their true capabilities were before entrusting them with anything important.?

?I swear, both you and Liane are…?

?Did something happen with Liane??

?You know her. She’s merciless when someone’s on her turf. I’m pretty sure the Elder Lich assigned to her wanted to end itself after the first day.?

Aemilia came from the kitchen with a cup of cool water, offering it to Dyel. The Orc grunted in thanks before downing it in one gulp.

“Life here seems complicated,” he said. “I fear that my people may cause trouble as you suggested. We’re honest, straightforward folk.”

“You’ll find that things here are straightforward as well, once you get used to them. If anything confuses you, you need only ask about the details.”

The bulky frame of another Orc filled the front window. Ludmila sent a pointed glance past Dyel’s shoulder and he turned around.

“What is it?”

“Just making sure you aren’t causing any trouble, dear.”

“I-I’m not a kid anymore, mother!”

“You’re welcome to join your son, Rholh,” Ludmila said. “You may do better than he has. He’s fainted once already.”

Dyel made a confounded noise. Rholh responded with something between a chuckle and a series of grunts.

“He’s still young,” she said, “so you’ll have to go easy on him. If Qrs were here, I’m sure he wouldn’t have any trouble keeping up.”

Florine nodded slightly at the implication. The former Lord of the Gan Zu Tribe was one of the strongest in its known history. This suggested that he had the requisite ‘Lord’ levels to grasp topics related to the rule of his people. Ludmila had probably invited Rholh to join them on the suspicion that she might have them as well, though she couldn’t be sure as she wasn’t familiar with the intricacies of their society.

“In that case,” Ludmila said, “let’s take a walk outside while we speak.”

They filed back outside into the crisp morning air. The sun had just risen over the peaks, casting long shadows over the village square. Orcs were wandering around in small groups, watching curiously as the Human citizens went about their morning business.

“How similar is this village to those of your own?” Florine asked.

“Hmm,” Dyel looked around, “it’s recognisable as a village, at least. Homes; families; the places where people work – I think those things are common to villages of every race that I’ve raided. Even the camps of nomadic tribes are arranged in similar ways.”

“Practical realities, I suppose,” Ludmila nodded thoughtfully. “Is there anything that seems less than ideal to you as an Orc?”

“It’s barren,” Dyel said. “Or do Humans live backwards? Your home is filled with greenery but the outdoors is bare stone as far as the eye can see.”

“That will change, in time. What you see here is merely the foundation of a future city, and that city is planned to have plenty of greenery. Ah, speaking of which.”

Glasir appeared from the buildings on the other side of the village square, walking straight toward them. As usual, the Death Knight carrying her pot followed. The Dryad had a barrel filled with garbage in her arms.

“A Dryad?” Dyel said, “How can there be a Dryad here?”

“I know, right?” Glasir said, “How can a Dryad be born here?”

The Dryad and the Orc shared a long look. Maybe Florine was missing something.

“This is Dame Glasir Gel Gronvidr,” Ludmila said. “She was born last autumn from that tree just outside the house here.”

“…but her tree is in a pot,” Dyel said.

“I know,” Glasir said.

“And it’s not even an Oak tree – it’s Ash.”

“I know!” Glasir nodded.

“And there’s Undead everywhere.”

“I know!” Glasir cried, “Nothing makes sense! I stopped thinking about it for my own sanity.”

“It’s still a good sign,” Rholh said.

Glasir and Dyel turned their confusion on the elder Orc.

“Dryads can only appear when the lands are lush and bountiful,” Rholh told them. “At least that’s what my sister once said. No matter what one thinks about what they see here, the presence of a healthy young Dryad means that this land is blessed by nature.”

The Dryad’s lip twitched up in a half smile.

“Don’t get a big head,” Ludmila said.

“J-just let me have my moment!” Glasir cried.

“It’s hard to see one having a moment carrying a barrel of garbage around. How large do you plan on making that pile behind the house?”

“As big as it can get,” the Dryad replied.

“Why are you collecting garbage behind the house?” Florine asked.

Glasir set down the barrel. From the sound of it hitting the stone, it must have been heavier than she was. The Dryad stuck her hand straight inside, pulling out a handful of food scraps, broken wood, tattered cloth and stale straw.

“I’m making dirt,” she said. “City dirt.”

“City dirt?”

“Uh, Lord Mare called it something else, but that’s basically what it is. If I want dirt, then I have to make it. Since I plan on living in the city, I need to make dirt from the detritus of the city.”

“Thus, ‘city dirt’.”

“Yup. I haven’t made much yet, but there are things I need to figure out. What critters I need to help break it down, the ideal temperature, how much moisture is best…”

“Won’t a big pile of garbage smell?” Florine asked.

The Dryad sniffed at the assortment of waste in her hand.

“Smells fine to me. It’s way better than smelling the rocks. Oh, if you’re talking about the rotting smell, that’s only a problem at first.”

“Because my sense of smell will be ruined after a while?”

“No,” Glasir shook her head, “because what makes it smell won’t be able to collect to make it smell. If something smells, that usually means you’re missing whatever stops it from smelling or there’s a shortage of it. A piece of the ‘system’ isn’t there in sufficient quantity.”

She gestured at the barrel on the stone in front of her.

“For example, this is what the villagers store behind their houses…but they keep it in closed containers and we’re in the middle of a barren-wasteland-that’s-not-a-wasteland. A barrel like this becomes an incomplete system and the products that go to the missing step collect. That’s what you smell as ‘rot’. It’s something that you can’t eat, but the critters that eat it aren’t there to make sure it doesn’t pile up. When the food goes through enough steps in the system, it becomes what most people recognise as dirt.”

Florine glanced at the others. She appeared to be the only one that didn’t know what Glasir was talking about. The Dryad picked up the barrel again.

“Anyway,” she said, “that’s what I’m doing with this. I can’t deal with the whole village’s refuse until the system is large and complex enough to handle everything that the people here can throw at it.”

“That doesn’t sound right…”

“Why not?”

“The more complex something is, the easier it is to break…at least that’s what Liane says.”

Glasir gave her a funny look.

“That’s wrong,” the Dryad said. “The more complex a system is, the more robust it becomes. A forest is more resilient than a potted plant.”

“Lady Wagner is almost certainly referring to a single product,” Ludmila said. “And, even then, she’s wrong. A system must include all inputs and outputs. Everything that goes into making a product, operating it, and servicing it would be the system, which is far from simple.”

“By that logic,” Florine said, “everything is connected.”

“That’s right,” Ludmila replied. “It’s one of the central points of what we’ve been discussing since we were in E-Rantel. One that happens beyond the notice of most.”

“Are you two fighting over something?” Rholh asked.

They turned to face the elder Orc.

“It’s not so much a fight as it is an attempt to reconcile differences in perception,” Ludmila answered. “Baroness Gagnier was brought up as the majority of Humans in this region are. You will see how things are eventually should you choose to travel inland. Voicing any disapproval over their practices will make you seem insane to them, so it’s probably best to keep your thoughts to yourself while you’re there.”

“Honestly,” Rholh said, “that sounds more like the nonsensical Humans that my husband talked about. Things in your village seem oddly normal once one figures out the parallels. Except for all of the Undead everywhere.”

“I’m pleased to be able to provide a sense of normalcy for your people,” Ludmila said. “I cannot claim to understand all that you’ve been through, but I hope to at least provide a place where you’ll be able to get your feet back under you again.”

“Are they staying here?” Glasir asked.

“They’ll be here for the next little while,” Ludmila answered. “It’s up to them where they go after that.”

“Oh.”

“Our mystics will be excited to know that a Dryad dwells here,” Rholh said. “I hope you won’t mind if they come seeking your wisdom from time to time.”

Glasir blinked several times before responding.

“Uh…sure! No problem. I need to get this dirt started before school, so I guess I’ll see you around.”

The wise Dryad proudly strode off with her barrel of garbage. Ludmila released the smallest of sighs. They continued around the square, dividing their time between talking about life in the Sorcerous Kingdom and speaking to the groups of Orcs that they came across. On the east side of the square near several of the shops, Leeda and Deeda split off from their group and came toward them.

“Mama, look!”

Leeda held up a naked dagger. Dyel frowned down at the blade.

“Hmm…that’s a nice dagger,” he said, “but what’s the pommel supposed to be?”

“A rawr!”

“A rawr?”

“A bear!”

Dyel looked over his shoulder at Ludmila and Florine.

“Do bears look like that here?”

“A certain type of bear does indeed look like that,” Ludmila replied.

“Is that so…”

?See what I mean??

?Alright, maybe you’re right. Just a little bit.?

She doubted that it was ‘just a little bit’. Like the late Lord Zahradnik, Ludmila just loved watching others make mistakes and observing the results. The most insidious part about it was that few people realised what she was doing. Most of the time, she didn’t need to say anything at all – she just let it happen.

“But where did you find it?” Rholh asked.

“It was in one of the buildings,” Deeda pointed randomly behind her.

“Wait a minute…”

Dyel took the dagger and examined it more closely.

“This dagger is too good. And it’s steel! Buying something like this from the Dwarves would cost two or three slaves.”

“What?!” Florine shouted.

Leeda and Deeda jumped in fright and ran to hide behind their mother’s legs. Dyel lowered the dagger as quickly as he had raised it. Dozens of stares bored into Florine from all around the square, but she was too furious to care.

“Did you just say that one steel dagger can be traded for two or three people?” She grated.

“…for a dagger of this quality, yes,” Dyel replied. “A tool like this can last many generations if well-maintained.”

Florine stared at him speechlessly. How could he make it sound so practical? Ludmila cleared her throat.

“I doubt that anyone traded any slaves for this dagger,” she said.

Dyel looked over at his sisters, who were still hiding behind Rholh.

“How did you get this?” He asked.

“I…I saw it with a lot of other daggers,” Deeda said. “I said that I liked it more than the others, so the Human girl there gave it to me.”

“That can’t be right,” Dyel said. “Such a valuable thing…Baroness Zahradnik, I must apologise in advance if she did something she shouldn’t have.”

In response, Ludmila looked toward the tool shop. A few seconds later, a girl came out to join them. She curtsied before Ludmila.

“My Lady?”

“Deeda here said that you gave her one of your daggers,” Ludmila said. “Is that true, Miss Faber?”

“Yes, my lady,” the girl said. “Did I do something wrong?”

“Not at all,” Ludmila smiled. “Thank you. That’s all they wanted to know.”

The girl curtsied again before waving to Deeda with a smile and returning to her shop. Deeda shyly waved back, though the girl’s back was already turned.

“Satisfied?” Ludmila asked.

“Yes,” Dyel said. “Sorry for the trouble.”

“I’m not familiar with your race,” Ludmila said, “but is it natural to suspect one’s own siblings of wrongdoing?”

“No, of course not,” Dyel said quickly. “It’s just…it’s just that I’ve seen things. I meant what I said about us being honest, straightforward people, but under Jaldabaoth…what we went through – what we were forced to do and what people turned into because of it. I don’t think I can ever see things the way I used to.”

“But your days of trading with these Dwarves were before Jaldabaoth, weren’t they?” Florine asked.

“Well, yes. It’s unquestionably a dagger excellent enough to be passed down as an heirloom. It’s unthinkable to ask for something like that without offering something in exchange.”

“Miss Faber was probably pleased that Deeda liked it,” Ludmila said. “She made it herself, after all.”

Dyel looked at the dagger in his hand, then toward the tool shop.

“That little girl made this? But this is something that a master artisan amongst the Dwarves would make.”

“Miss Faber is skilled enough to consistently produce masterwork items,” Ludmila replied. “While we may bear some similarities to the Dwarves that you’re accustomed to dealing with, you will probably find that we’re more different than alike.”

The Dwarves they dealt with sounded utterly atrocious. They seemed nothing like the Azerlisian Mountain Dwarves beyond being recognised for the quality of their metalwork.

?Are you alright??

Florine looked up from her thoughts.

?I think so. I still don’t get how people can be pawned off for anything, never mind so little.?

?Well, you heard it yourself. It may be a nice dagger to us, but it’s good enough to be a valuable heirloom to them. The cost of a few prisoners taken in their raids probably seems like a good deal. I hope they don’t go crazy when they find out they can trade a stack of deer hides for one…?

“If there’s one thing that I should say,” Ludmila said, “it’s that you should stop viewing things in terms of their value in slaves. Those exchange rates are invalid here anyway, and it may make everything seem ridiculously cheap.”

“What is that dagger worth here, for reference?” Dyel asked.

“In terms of what you may have access to,” Ludmila answered, “around ten deer hides.”

“Ouch,” Dyel said. “Two or three slaves would be easier to raid for. How long do you think that would take, mother?”

“If everything went perfectly, two years would be reasonable.”

“Why would it take two years?” Florine asked.

“Hunting is limited in the Abelion Hills,” Rholh answered. “It’s often easier to raid one’s neighbours for food than it is to hunt for game. Large hides are precious – they’re used for garments and equipment. Depending on what one has to replace over a season, one may not have any to spare.”

Going by that, maybe it was easy for them to see people as a commodity, but it didn’t make it right. Had she been placed in charge of hundreds of tribes that thought the same way? How could she facilitate a smooth transition to the Sorcerer King’s rule? There were some things that the Sorcerous Kingdom wouldn’t budge on, but Florine didn’t want to thoughtlessly pave over their new citizens’ values and customs.

“How long would it take, in your territory?” Dyel said.

“It’s not a fair comparison,” Ludmila said, “but a single novice hunter can easily do it in a week.”

Dyel, Rholh, and several other Orcs who had stopped to listen in to the conversation gaped at her.

“As I said,” Ludmila smirked, “it’s not a fair comparison. The lands here are far more bountiful than lands south of the mountains, so the population densities for everything are far different. One forester’s range is twenty square kilometres and there are roughly thirty-two deer per square kilometre to manage. Hunting ten deer a week will keep the population stable.”

“And you allocated one thousand square kilometres to our people,” Rholh nodded. “Our hunters will take time to accustom themselves to the new land, but it’s enough to cover half of our population’s food needs and give us a hefty surplus to trade once the basics are covered. Since you say that we should be able to support ourselves with that land, I assume you mean to have us trade our surplus here?”

“That’s right,” Ludmila said. “Not only will you have food, bone and hides from the beast populations that you keep in check, but also herbs and other alchemical reagents. It’s enough to achieve a quality of life similar to that of the residents of Warden’s Vale, though the shape that your lifestyle takes is mostly in the hands of your people.”

The Dyel, Rholh, and the Orcs all around them remained silent after Ludmila spoke.

“I…I don’t know what to say,” Dyel said. “This is more than we could have ever hoped. Thank you so much for your generosity.”

“Thank His Majesty for granting you sanctuary,” Ludmila told them. “For my part, this arrangement is the same as I would offer any population of foresters. You are not being shown any particular favour: you are being treated as tenant foresters for the duration of your stay and I hold the same expectations of you as I would with any other.”

“I see,” Dyel nodded. “Honestly, I would feel terrible if we were the only ones benefiting from this arrangement. I guess we should give this talk of rules and regulations another go.”

“That will have to wait,” Ludmila replied. “I have an appointment to keep with the expedition in the Upper Reaches. Actually, would you like to come? We may not know where your father and the members of the Gan Zu Tribe that were with him are, but I can at least show you where I last saw them.”