A Tyrant, Sort Of

“We all know why we’re here,” Chieftain Kirak said. “But before we start, we of course pay respect to the Great Tyrant.”

The old goblin stood and bowed. In a surprisingly coordinated display, even disconcerting to an extent, a collection of chairs scraped back, and the rest of the gathered leadership did the same.

Sable appreciated it. She swept a look across so many individuals paying tribute to her natural dominance, and a warm glow suffused her. They held the pose until Sable prompted them to rise—through Aylin, naturally, still lacking a way to speak herself.

[Continue.]

The goblins seated themselves. Sable could tell not all were pleased about the situation, but the time for resistance had passed. With her recent advancement—which was made obvious through her newly gained bulk—the city of Skatikk alone could no longer fight her with hopes of winning. It hadn’t taken much time for her to grow into the beast they’d feared. By the apprehensive looks, much less time than they’d expected. Less than Sable had, for that matter.

With the formalities given, a serious demeanor fell over the table. It was time for the war talks to begin.

“We find ourselves in an unprecedented situation,” Chieftain Kirak began, sounding amused. “In a normal council, we would discuss strategy and tactics. Discuss our odds and whether advancing onto Rustspike territory is wise at all. But here? To what purpose? What use is strategy with a dragon at our head? There is no conceivable means of failure.” He leveled his attention Sable’s way, and the rest of the war council followed. “So the only topic of note, today, is how the Great Tyrant wishes to crush our enemies. We are her instruments.”

Sable had expected it to come to this, and would have indicated her displeasure if it hadn’t. Of course she would be the one leading this discussion, and that her plans held highest precedence. Like usual, the Chieftain of Skatikk proved himself a deft political hand; he navigated the discussion exactly as he should.

Sable spoke, Aylin echoing the words.

[The priority,] Sable said, [is minimizing death.]

She let that bewildering statement sink into the gathered people, even Chieftain Kirak pausing, then raised off her haunches and sneered.

[I will not have my livestock slaughtering each other,] Sable said contemptuously. [Do you think you people are special to me? If I let you live, why would I not the others? They have value. You are no more meaningful than them. My goal,] she repeated, Aylin mimicking the disdain in her voice beautifully, [is a unified kingdom of which I can make bountiful harvests. Thus, the only lives reaped will be at my command. You are mine to make use of.]

That left a silence of a different sort. Sable delighted in it. She stalked slow circles around the table, servants scurrying away as she dragged her bulk forward, scraping gouges into the arid dirt.

[I have learned, in my short time here, how inadequate my predecessors were,] Sable said. [The gross incompetence that led to their extinction. The unfounded ambition. Their deaths were deserved. Make no mistake, I am not a dumb beast, slavering over gold and jewels. And in this conquest, you will prosper in my wake.] Sable swept a gaze across the men and women. [But if you cost me? Reap lives that belong to me? You will discover what I find unacceptable. Wastefulness. And you will discover the consequences that follow.]

Sable returned to her spot behind Aylin, seating herself. The war council remained silent.

[I do detest inefficiency,] Sable said. [This is your warning. Thus, we prioritize bloodless conquest. This will mean, I suspect, eradicating the leadership and powerful classed of enemy tribes, should they refuse.] She smirked, leaving the implication hanging—that that included them, should she ever deem the Bonecrackers an enemy. [But even that is wasteful. First efforts will be intimidation. We will extend an offer to join peacefully.]

“The Bonecrackers and Rustspikes have been enemies for generations,” Chieftain Kirak said mildly. “And you razed their capital not a week ago. A bloodless conquering seems unlikely.”

[So be it,] Sable said. [I will do what is needed to break them. But with as little waste as possible. Each life taken is one that could be toiling to my purpose.]

She knew there was hypocrisy in her words, seeing how these men and women thought she’d burned Gadenrock down, but that was good. She didn’t want to seem predictable, either.

[But the exact methodology,] Sable said. [This is where I will allow you to advise me. I don’t know these lands, the best path to take. I give you the honor of offering suggestions.]

The collected leadership leaned back in their chairs and considered. They obviously weren’t surprised at her arrogant words. Though Sable had certainly unsettled them. Surely they’d suspected she was no normal dragon, but she’d doubly and triply confirmed it with her speech.

Chieftain Kirak seemed more thoughtful than usual. Sable had deliberately framed her conquest in a way that was—while horrifying—clearly something that could be maneuvered to their benefit, should her subjects comply. That was the entire point.

Probably not the best from a raw fear and notoriety standpoint, but Sable had plans for that down the line. And taking over the world came with its own built-in notoriety. A strategic, efficient dragon monarch inspired terror regardless of excess cruelty. Though rumors of such brutality would still be useful—as with Gadenrock.

“Intimidation,” Alaniz said. “Perhaps we—” he paused, “you, could force the remaining cities to surrender. But enforcing that rule will be more difficult. And we’ll need to fortify them against the Stonegrins and Nightshades. Or otherwise handle them, since they’re surely preparing their forces.”

[I’ll bring a collection of the Bonecracker Tribe’s classed to Rustspike’s cities,] Sable said. [Then remove enough of the enemy that we have the dominant force there. The city will be ready to be secured by our main troops. How many cities do we need to do this for?]

The gathering of goblins paused at hearing a dragon talk strategy. Many eyed her even more warily, for all Sable had already demonstrated herself not a dumb brute.

[Assuming I can’t simply turn away the opposing forces,] Sable said, her lips curling up. [I’m sure most can be convinced the territory isn’t as vulnerable as it seems.]

“We wouldn’t need to secure all of them,” Kirak said. “Only those directly threatened. The rest could come after.” His next words came almost carefully. “If we knew troop movements, we could make an informed decision.”

Clearly, the Chieftain didn’t want to outright request Sable do something as mundane as scout out enemy movements. Heavily implied, though. And it made sense. She could soar around the territory and identify where the Nightshades and Stonegrins were gathering—what cities were soon to be under attack.

[I will do so,] Sable said.

“We’ll need a way to transport our classed, as well,” a new voice said. “If we’re planning to invade with a small force. Some structure that can be carried.”

The collection of goblins spared a moment for the strange imagery: a dragon carrying some portable vehicle to deliver a contingent of powerful classed into an enemy city.

It didn’t matter if it looked odd, though. The tactical implications were enticing. She could tell which of these men and women were generals and warband leaders by the way vicious glints appeared in their eyes. Yes, a flying fortress that could spew molten fire and carry invading forces was such a useful addition to a war effort.

“And what of Quil and her team?” Alaniz asked. “Do we have word?”

Sable tilted her head.

At the question, Chieftain Kirak sighed, and some of his stalwartness seemed to drain away. It was uncharacteristic enough Sable’s interest doubled.

“No,” the Chieftain said. “No word. This campaign will likely need to proceed without them.”

[Quil?] Sable asked. [Who is this?]

Alaniz replied, “She leads one of our more powerful teams of classed. They went missing a week ago.”

Oh? Was that another reason Skatikk had folded to Sable without fighting back? A missing party of some of their best classed?

[Missing where?] Sable asked.

“A dungeon expedition near our border,” Alaniz said. “The Labyrinth of Lost Echoes. Recently opened.” He frowned, looking around the table. “We fear the Nightshades might have encroached. Even if their delve took a deadly turn, it seems unlikely all five would fall.”

[I see,] Sable said. [This group is a useful asset?]

Chieftain Kirak paused, then leaned forward, recognizing the implication in Sable’s question. “We could provide directions to the dungeon,” he said, “and Gritzn has skill with divination. She could track them down, so long as we found evidence of what happened. Some link. The transport needs to be constructed, regardless, before the assault begins, so we would have time to mount a rescue mission. Should the Great Tyrant be willing, of course.”

Alaniz frowned at the older man, as did a few others at the table. It was not the most deft maneuvering, as would otherwise be typical of the Chieftain. Clearly, he was invested in this for some reason other than the strategic purpose.

Alaniz turned to Sable, then said, “They are a useful asset, Lady Sable. Perhaps our third most competent team of classed. The war effort would be simpler with them rejoined to our arsenal.”

[I see.]

It didn’t take a detective to guess why Kirak was acting oddly. Was Quil, or a member on her team, some relative of his? A daughter? That was the simplest explanation. It would make sense that a family member would be what caused a slip in his typical demeanor.

Indeed, Kirak already seemed to be collecting himself, vaguely embarrassed. He leaned back in his chair, his usual composure returning.

[Construct the transport,] Sable said. [Formalize the plans for conquest. I’ll retrieve this team and scout enemy troops in the meantime. Fetch this divination mage and provide me directions to the dungeon.] She sniffed. [And be quick about it. I dislike waiting.]