Argrave, Anneliese, Elenore, and Galamon sat in a private room within Blackgard. On his way in, Argrave had seen the first arrival of dwarven craftsmen. As Elenore said, they seemed to be taking stock of everything around them. Mostly they were surprised by the sheer space of everything—they stared into the distance as though it wasn’t real, and looked out across the ocean of Blackgard as trading vessels came and went with childlike wonder.
But Argrave was undergoing just as shocking a shift as the dwarves were, potentially. The Veidimen were intending to seize upon this opportunity to invade the lands of the Great Chu. That, in combination with Sataistador’s intent for the region, made a complicated mess that gained new variables and ways it might go wrong by the day.
“Why does everybody have to think like this?” Argrave wondered quietly as his wife and sister both waited for his opinion. He looked at Galamon. “And why did you come here?”
“To explain. To persuade.” Galamon crossed his arms. “Do you not want me here?”
“No, you’re never unwelcome. You’re one of my closest friends. It’s just…” Argrave trailed off, gathering his thoughts. He looked up at Galamon and shook his head, saying, “Dras is a real bastard, isn’t he?”
“…you do not know him as I do,” Galamon defended, though quietly.
Argrave rose to his feet and walked nearer to Galamon. “He’s put Anneliese in an impossible situation. By extension, he’s put all of us in an impossible situation,” Argrave held his hands out, gesturing all around. “He wants us to sit back and allow us to reap the rewards of the dirty work he’s doing. But that doesn’t change the fact that dirty work is being done. He wants us to swallow that.”
“This invasion cannot be called mere ‘dirty work.’ It is the ambition of our people—the goal of several lifetimes,” Galamon declared evenly.
Argrave stared at his unflinching white eyes. He had never challenged his companion’s perspective on his people because it was irrelevant to their goal. Yet now, it had bled into everything.
“I suppose at the very least, Dras convinced me that it’s about more than personal glory. But I think you need perspective. No matter how much Rowe, Dras, or even you say that they do this to establish a unified and peaceful world, can you honestly say every man below you holds that ideal?” Argrave shook his head firmly. “No. For every good man, ten more only want to take, to conquer, to satisfy their baser desires. That’s their motive—Anneliese has confirmed as much with her personal experience. And those rapacious people will cause problems for her even if Dras and Veid both name her as his successor. A people sustained by war will not peacefully transition away from it. Am I wrong?” he demanded.
Galamon looked off to the side for a moment, then looked back. “You’re right. It won’t be perfect. But this greed has existed in people since the dawn of time. We Veidimen have found a way to harness it toward a better purpose. The following generations will benefit.”
Argrave scoffed. “Rowe himself said that his people are transitioning away from that lifestyle. You don’t need rampant war to kill greed. It just stokes the flame, traps them into a cycle that’ll be all the harder to break,” he insisted, growing impassioned when such a dear friend of his said something he found disagreeable.
Galamon’s stoicism wavered, and he closed his eyes to dispel whatever emotions surfaced.
Argrave stepped forth, almost pleading, “You’ve seen war. You’ve told me, personally, that you’ve seen people cry for their mother as they die. You’ve seen the violent rape of innocent populaces by people you had breakfast with the same day. You say it haunts you to this day. Still, you insist on this. Help me understand why.”
Galamon’s silence was deafening, but when he opened his mouth his voice was clear. “Rowe said many things. Among them, a fact: King Felipe III was the instrument that gave you the power you now wield.”
Argrave stood agape. Anneliese stepped up, saying lightly, “Galamon…”
“And what about what you’ve done, yourself?” Galamon said.
Argrave and Elenore met with the delegate of dwarves, immersing his mind in thoughts of what to do regarding this problem to distract him from the concession that he’d made. He felt this was the first situation he’d come upon where there really was no right answer. At this critical point, they couldn’t risk anything other than total cooperation from the Veiden. They were their lifeline against the Great Chu’s navy. Anneliese, meanwhile, returned to Rowe to deliver her decision of hesitant acceptance.
The dwarves took some wrangling, and Argrave had to distract them with a veritable breadcrumb trail of dwarven metal leading to Vysenn. First, he demonstrated his army’s weaponry. The dwarves almost seemed appalled that such precious metal was being used as mere weaponry, for it had far better applications as machinery. When he challenged that assumption, their journey toward Vysenn became these dwarves’ top priority.
Argrave used mass teleportation with [Worldstrider], wowing their people. It consumed enough spirits to make Argrave’s heart ache, but he felt time was urgent enough that it was warranted in this situation. Once on the scene, Argrave was prepared to outfit their band with something to endure the harsh volcanic conditions near the site. The dwarves, however, retrieved their own gear, putting on masks and suits that were more-than-suitable to help them traverse the land.
Once they arrived at the temple—or rather, the former temple, given the Alchemist’s extensive efforts to clear land around it—the dwarves began instituting several provisions that Argrave had promised them. There were five master craftsmen that had been sent to watch over the journeymen’s progress, and they very efficiently set up a site that was to-the-letter what Argrave had promised.
They established a perimeter where guards roamed—guards who were spellcasters, Argrave noticed, even if only at B-rank. All of Argrave’s people were forbidden from entering this place unless they asked for permission far in advance. Argrave only planned for occasional progress checks. Elenore and her people were tasked with supplying the dwarves with the raw material that they needed, something she was well prepared to do.
All in all, the setup process took up the remainder of the day. Construction was to begin tomorrow. During this whole process, Argrave’s feet itched to head to the north that he might prepare to confront the Imperial Navy headed by Emperor Ji Meng and the fearsome Admiral Tan Shu. She was a woman in military service—rather than demonstrating Chu tolerance, her gender was a testament to her unusual talent. She had risen to her position by extreme merit. With her at sea and the emperor at land, Argrave felt he needed ample preparations.
With the dwarves established in Vysenn, Argrave gave one final visit to ensure that the dwarves were beginning their process. Then, he left, prepared to confront the Imperial Navy heading across the vast ocean between the two nations of Vasquer and the Great Chu.
#####
“In this domain, I can see distant objects perfectly,” Argrave declared, calling upon his Domain of Law as a mere telescope. At once his vision bugged out as the sheer disorientation of such a command washed over him.
Argrave stood on the cliffs of northern Vasquer. He was at the highest point in these cliffs to better see what was beyond the horizon. It had been ten days since he came to this land of biting cold. Progress on the pumping station in Vysenn was more or less on schedule, but it would be some days before the pumping process even began.
Artur’s enchantments very nicely kept him warm despite the freezing climate, but the countless Veidimen longships in the ocean beyond did not receive the same luxurious treatment. Nor did the Brumesingers hiding in his pockets, it seemed, for they shivered fiercely. They needed to be here, though, now more than ever.
The ships at the edge of Argrave’s vision would not be free of the cold either. He estimated, this high up, he could see around ten miles away. And that was where the first wave of the Imperial Navy rested, just at the horizon. Their bulky, iron-shielded ships travelled slowly, even with the winds somewhat favorable to them—they moved at perhaps one knot.
But the horizon was jam-packed full of these turtle ships. These heavy vessels, made for use near coastlines, were never made to cross the ocean. But Sataistador had given Argrave reports of three gods accompanying them—triplet brothers, apparently. One of tides, another of winds, and a third for storms. These brothers had been guiding the Imperial Navy impeccably from the shadows.
This battle would be harsh. Their ships were packed with soldiers and spellcasters both—Argrave could see the occasional pulse of magic within their ships. Additionally, they had a more mundane advantage: fire. They had flame-spewing weapons that could cover the surface of the ocean with a foul, reactive liquid mixture and set it aflame. That would be devastating for both sides of the battle. The Great Chu would not hesitate to overwhelm them with sheer numbers of ships.
But at the heart of the fleet, there was another ship. It was titanic, resembling a floating fortress that had been cast into the ocean and somehow managed not to sink. Great Chu imagery decorated the front and back of it. The crescent moon and eastern-style dragons featured most prominently, and its front and back had been decorated to make it appear as a titanic serpentine dragon. It seemed large enough to house ten thousand soldiers. It was the flagship of the Great Chu Imperial Navy, the so-called Sea Dragon. And it was there that Argrave would need to face Emperor Ji Meng and Admiral Tan Shu, alongside the most potent mortal soldiers the world had to offer.
But Argrave would not be alone in this. Already, Veidimen longships lurched in strategic locations, prepared to sail out and push enemy vessels into treacherous, shallow waters that they might be beached. And Argrave would not be assaulting this fortress-ship alone. He looked at the naval base, nestled within a lagoon shielded from sight. There, Crystal Wind, the dragon bonded to Rowe the Righteous, stood prepared to carry Argrave’s retinue. Alongside his companions, all of the Veidimen guard gifted to him by Dras many months ago waited, equipped in the best gear that they’d gathered. Uncountable others lurked elsewhere.
Argrave had wanted peace, and so he had prepared for this war. Such was the tragic way of this world.
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