Valkyrie's Shadow

Chapter 9

“Yo, Baroness.”

Ludmila looked up from her brooding to find Chief Esess approaching her with a lazy wave of a claw. The Lizardman Lord was accompanied by his usual entourage, which included the Ranger in charge of training on wetland terrain, Ezsris, and a handful of tribal elders. The black-scaled female smacked the Chief across the back of his head.

“Is that any way to greet your liege?” Ezsris hissed, “Please forgive him, Lady Zahradnik. The cold is making him stupid.”

“It does seem a bit late for Lizardmen to be out and about,” Ludmila said.

“We heard that a Merchant Lord had come to challenge your rule,” Chief Esess said. “Are we too late to watch the fight?”

“She is already gone,” Ludmila replied.

“That quick?” Chief Esess peered at the surroundings, “I don’t see any bloodstains…”

“It was not that sort of challenge,” Ludmila said. “There was no ‘Merchant Lord’, either. She was simply a representative from the Merchant Guild who came to deliver a set of demands from her organisation.”

Chief Esess scratched his chin, his yellow eyes reflecting the magical illumination of the square.

“Hoh, how brave of them. What did they ask for?”

“Nothing that I could agree to,” Ludmila replied. “Tell me, Chief Esess: how do your people feel about my rule?”

“Your rule? Mu…it could be worse, I guess? At first, we thought we would be farmed and eaten like fish, but then we realised that we could live our lives in peace here.”

As usual, the stereotypically tepid Lizardman response did little to stimulate conversation. Ludmila pursed her lips as she considered how to broach her topic with Chief Esess. The Chief put on a confused look.

“Wait, I’ve seen that expression before. Erm…sorry, I don’t think it would work between–”

“That is not what it means in this situation,” Ludmila said. “Are you acquainted with any of the Lizardman Alliance members living in E-Rantel?”

The Chief sent a sidelong glance to his fellows, who blinked oddly in return.

“I think everyone knows someone living there,” Chief Esess replied. “Or at least someone who visits the city regularly. Back before we came here, Lord Cocytus said that they needed some people to live in the city. We had much to thank the Sorcerer King for, so a few of us went.”

“How did they fare?”

“From what I hear, not so well. So far, at least. Lord Mare was kind enough to fashion them a pond in the middle of the Demihuman Quarter, but the fact that they had something to remind them of home only made the city feel even more alien, if that makes any sense.”

“Do you have any insights as to why they felt that way?”

Chief Esess rubbed the back of his head as he considered her question.

“My Uncle said that it just never became home, my lady,” Ezsris piped up. “At best, the Demihuman Quarter is a place where Demihumans are allowed to dwell. E-Rantel remains a Human city with Human rules and customs.”

“Which is not unreasonable,” Chief Esess said. “When one goes the place of another, following their rules is a matter of courtesy. Zaryusu said as much to them as he did to us before we came here.”

“Zaryusu…”

“Another of my uncles,” Ezsris told her. “He is a former Traveller who has been to many places.”

“I see,” Ludmila said. “I agree that what he says is a prudent approach for Travellers, but your people were invited to make a new home in the city. What measures does the city take to help facilitate that?”

“A difficult question,” Chief Esess replied. “It is hard to think of any particular thing.”

“Uncle Shasuryu says that the Humans constantly tell everybody else what to do,” Ezsris said. “Even if the words come from the mouth of an Elder Lich, one can tell that the city follows Human rules. Our people do what they can to follow them, but many are strange and nonsensical. At one point, the Humans demanded that we wear shoes outside of the Demihuman Quarter.”

“Shoes?” Ludmila furrowed her brow in confusion, “Why?”

“They said that our feet are dirty and we track mud and filth. Our claws scratch up their wooden floors and wagon beds. Some worry that we may injure others.”

Humans in general didn’t react very well to claws and teeth, but…

“Nonna,” Ludmila said, “have there been any reports of Lizardmen accidentally injuring others with their natural weapons in Warden’s Vale?”

“No,” Nonna replied. “All injuries inflicted by Lizardmen in Warden’s Vale have so far been intentional.”

Ludmila nodded to herself, crossing her arms in thought. The insistence on wearing shoes was also partially rooted in past realities. Before the advent of the Sorcerous Kingdom, E-Rantel heavily relied on beasts of burden and being a regional inland trade hub amplified the issues that came with them. The streets could become literal rivers of manure if the city went without rain for too long and it was never truly a clean place. Lady Albedo’s measures to sanitise E-Rantel, however, should have made related concerns about footwear a thing of the past.

“Are the other non-Human races treated similarly in the city?” She asked.

Chief Esess exchanged looks with the other Lizardmen. All of them responded with negative gestures.

“That, we cannot say,” the Chief said. “Our kin in the city have only shared their personal experiences. Adapting to life there has many challenges.”

“They don’t like the pond,” one of the Lizardmen behind Chief Esess said.

“Ah, right,” the Chief nodded. “The non-aquatic races all hate it because it spawns swarms of mosquitoes and flies. The Humans say that our control methods are inadequate.”

“What did your people do?”

“Our Druids devised a reasonable enough plan. We stocked the pond with fish to eat the larvae and transplanted carnivorous plants from home. Overall, we believe the number of pests is tolerable, but the Humans want none at all. Ah, on a related note, we expected help from the local bats and birds, but the city had none.”

Ludmila furrowed her brow at the claim. She tried to recall the last time she saw a wild bird in the city. To her great confusion, she was pretty sure she hadn’t seen one since she and her friends had gone to the Empire.

“What happened to them?”

“Eaten, probably,” Chief Esess seemed to shrug. “Meat is expensive. Fish get taken from the pond, as well. The plants we brought in can only survive where there is plenty of water.”

“What did the city administration have to say about it?” Ludmila asked.

“Nothing. No laws are being broken and the pests seem to improve tax revenues.”

She turned to level an incredulous look at Nonna.

“Imports and sales of vermin countermeasures have improved twenty-fold,” the Elder Lich’s tone took on a positive – at least for an Elder Lich – inflexion. “Lord Mare’s ingenuity has resulted in a graceful synergy between tormenting the population and developing new sources of tax revenue.”

Some people surely deserved to be tormented, but she couldn’t imagine what an entire city could have done to earn the cruel and unusual punishment.

“The Temples should have advised the administration on this,” Ludmila said. “Insects of this nature can be a vector for disease. The last thing we need is an epidemic sweeping through the city.”

“Health care services in the city are currently under capacity. The revenues gained by minimising this inefficiency will serve to stimulate the growth of the healthcare sector.”

“Are those the words of His Majesty?” Ludmila asked.

“It is the determination of the Royal Court,” Nonna answered.

In other words, the Sorcerer King hadn’t been involved in the discussion. Ludmila had long learned that the Sorcerer King’s vassals and servitors would waste no time saying so if it was the case.

I guess this should be expected with a Demon in charge…

“Sounds like a business opportunity to me,” Miss LeNez’s voice came from somewhere to the side. “We can export more of our vermin-repelling magic items and consumables. We’ll make a mountain of gold!”

“I think you forgot the part where the Guild has embargoed all of our industries,” Ludmila said.

“Oh, yeah. Oops.”

“Are these ‘guilds’ truly so powerful, Lady Zahradnik?” Chief Esess asked, “The way I understand it, they are just Merchant tribes…sort of? Merchants can be easily crushed in war. If they attack us, we will destroy them.”

“I doubt they would do anything so foolish,” Ludmila answered. “The Guilds can only exist when a region is stable enough to allow the establishment of urban centres and the industries that come with them. While it is not unheard of for them to commission Assassins and Mercenaries, that would only happen if violence was deemed to be the most efficient way to achieve their ends. For the most part, they adhere to local laws and use their economic and political clout to advance their agendas.”

Chief Esess shifted back a few steps.

“This is beginning to sound like one of your lectures…”

“I am not about to lecture the entire village on something that they should already know,” Ludmila said. “All you need to know for now is that the overall strategy of the Guilds will be to make it impossible for us to participate in any market that they hold influence over.”

“But aren’t many of your subjects also members of the Guilds?”

“They are,” Ludmila said. “Or, rather, they were. So long as they remain my subjects, the embargo applies to them as well. That being said, this–”

“How can you be so calm about this?!” A girl’s voice sounded from the crowd, “We’re all ruined!”

The murmur of discussion going on between the villagers gathered in the square died. Ludmila looked over to see who had spoken. Curiously, whoever it was did not speak in the language of Re-Estize or the Theocracy. The crowd parted to reveal a child who sent a betrayed look to the people around her.

“I don’t recall receiving any migrants from the Holy Kingdom,” Ludmila said.

Construction on the Abelion Highway was only half complete, so Ludmila doubted that the girl had wandered through the wilderness to appear in Warden’s Vale. Merchant traffic from the peninsula nation had been nonexistent since Jaldabaoth’s invasion, so perhaps she was a vagrant who had taken years to wander her way over. Given her apparent age, there was little chance that she could have survived the journey on her own but there were no nearby adults expressing alarm over her outburst.

“Why does that matter?” The girl fumed, “Everyone is going to become poor and starve because you didn’t listen to the guild lady!”

“I believe you are overestimating the impact that the Guilds have on the local economy…”

“I’m not,” the girl told her. “The city that I came from is way bigger than the cities around here so I know how things really work. Evil Nobles like you tried to take over and everything burned to the ground! Why are you acting like you’re in charge, anyway? Cities belong to the royal family.”

“Cities belong to the Crown in the Holy Kingdom,” Ludmila replied, “but most urban centres in Re-Estize are both chartered and administered by local houses.”

“This isn’t Re-Estize, dummy! It’s the Sorcerous Kingdom! When my husband comes home, he’s going to teach you a lesson!”

“…your husband?”

“He kills bad guys like you. You better–eeeeeeeeeee!!!”

A terrified squeal filled the air as Chief Gan Zu entered the village square with several of his fellows. The Orc Chief watched with a confused expression as the girl fled into the night.

“I can’t say I’ve ever seen a Human do that before,” Chief Gan Zu said.

“She is from the Holy Kingdom of Roble,” Ludmila told him. “Her country was regularly raided by tribes from the Abelion Hills in the past.”

“…and that means she’s scared of me?” The Orc snorted, “How strange. It wasn’t as if I was trying to stick her in my mouth.”

“It would be a lie to say that you will not see reactions like that from time to time,” Ludmila said, “especially when it comes to people from more insular places. But that is not something you need to worry about, for now. Is there something that you need?”

“We heard that a Merchant Lord came to challenge you,” Chief Gan Zu replied. “Is the fight already over?”

Ludmila’s gaze went from the Orcs to the Lizardmen. Would an army of Goblins show up next?

“A representative of the Guilds came to deliver a list of demands,” Ludmila said. “I rejected those demands, so…actually, I am curious about something. You visited E-Rantel with a group of your tribe’s artisans. What did you think of the city?”

“It is a busy place,” Chief Gan Zu replied, “though not as busy as the Dale of Defiance back when the Demon Emperor attacked us. The only strange thing was that Humans kept approaching me with offers of work.”

“Ah,” Chief Esess’ tail twitched knowingly, “that also happens.”

“What sort of ‘work’?” Ludmila asked.

“Simple things,” the Orc Chief answered. “Carrying stuff around. Unloading wagons. Moving goods in and out of storehouses. A few people asked what valuable materials might be found in my territory. In all, they seemed far too interested for people I’ve never met before.”

“It is their way,” Chief Esess said. “At least that’s what Chief Shasuryu told me. This also happened to the Lizardmen who went to the city. In the city, people have no territory so they must find other ways to survive. Mostly, this is through trade and mmm…manufacturing? The city folk target Demihumans in hopes that they can obtain cheap resources from their lands. Fortunately, Countess Wagner and Baroness Gagnier encouraged each tribe to raise its own Merchants so we are not cheated.”

“Has this happened to you, as well, Lady Zahradnik?” Chief Gan Zu asked.

“Yes,” Ludmila sighed at the long series of unpleasant memories that rose in answer to the question. “Unfortunately, we did not have any Merchants to represent us at the time.”

“I see. Well, at least they aren’t specifically targeting non-Humans.”

“Oh, but they are,” Chief Esess said.

“They are?”

“They approached you with offers of work because you were the biggest and strongest-looking member of your party,” Chief Esess said. “If all Orcs can survive on the same wage, then it is best to employ someone like Dyel.”

“But not all work requires raw strength,” Ludmila noted. “Do not tell me that they apply the same reasoning to your artisans.”

The Orc and the Lizardman exchanged a look.

“Then I will not tell you,” Chief Esess said.

Ludmila narrowed her eyes at his response. The two Demihuman Lords cautiously backed away.

“I do not like the sound of this,” she said. “On a related note, what professions have Demihumans and Heteromorphs taken up in the city?”

“They are mostly labourers,” Chief Esess said. “After that, you have all the Merchants bringing goods to the city, followed by the mystics who help manage the population’s well-being. A handful of Heteromorphs work for the government, but they are the powerful sort like Dragons and Naga.”

“What about vocations overseen by the Guilds?” Ludmila asked, “How many non-Human apprentices have been contracted by the workshops around the city?”

“I can’t speak for everyone in the city,” Chief Esess said, “But none of Shasuryu’s people are with any of the craft guilds.”

“Then how do they make a living?”

“Some came to hone their combat skills against the Adventurer Guild, which covers their expenses. Others work for the Lizardman Merchants who go back and forth between the city and the Great Lake. There is no room to raise a family in the city, so they leave their mates and hatchlings at home.”

“If you were a Lizardman looking to make a new life in the city,” Ludmila asked, “what would you do?”

“If you mean in E-Rantel,” the Lizardman Chief answered, “my only choice aside from what I mentioned would be to take the work that the Humans offer. Being a dock worker in Corelyn Harbour would probably be best. It’s on the water and only a short ride from the city.”

“This is not good…” Ludmila muttered.

“Eh? But I studied so hard–”

“There is nothing wrong with your answer,” Ludmila told Chief Esess. “The problem is what your answer implies.”

Her eyes went from the Lizardmen to the Orcs beside them; then to the Human villagers assembled around her. How things worked in her fief had blinded her to the reality of the situation elsewhere.

“His Majesty the Sorcerer King encourages us to do the things that we are good at, both in terms of individual and racial aptitudes. This…confrontation with the Guilds and the accounts of life in the city has led me to identify an issue with His Majesty’s mandate.”

“There can be no issue with our Master’s mandates,” Nonna immediately told her.

“The issue is in its interpretation,” Ludmila said. “This affects how the mandate is implemented and its consequences. How things work in Warden’s Vale is quite different from what is happening in E-Rantel.”

“How complicated can it be?” Chief Gan Zu said, “If one is good at hunting, then they hunt. If one has a talent for fashioning fine leather equipment, then they do that. Is this wrong?”

“I believe most of us here see it that way,” Ludmila replied.

“Then what’s the problem?”

“The problem is that, in the common Human culture of E-Rantel, there is the notion that some people are worth more than others by virtue of their vocation.”

“That’s preposterous!” The Orc Chief snorted, “Hunters and warriors may contend with one another for rank, but what purpose is there for one to stand above or below a mystic or artisan? Everyone is doing something essential for the survival of the tribe or they wouldn’t be doing it.”

“Simply put, it is decadence,” Ludmila said. “In what form it manifests depends on the situation. The people of Re-Estize and the Empire have enjoyed nearly two centuries of undeserved peace due to the protection of a greater power. Instead of collectively honing themselves to survive the challenges that the world might throw at them, they have developed a complex web of hierarchies that reflect their society’s ‘realities’ and jockey for position within it. Sooner or later, however, those realities are proven to be delusions – often to the woe of the deluded.”

Much like the societies of the wilderness tribes, those rooted in the Faith of the Six had a survival-oriented outlook on life. Up until recently, it concerned itself with the survival of humanity in a hostile world, imploring its faithful to do their part in preventing its extinction. There was little tolerance for decadence and corruption as a result.

“What does that have to do with being offered work?” Chief Gan Zu asked.

“It represents two aspects of their society rolled into one,” Ludmila answered. “The first is that tribal Demihumans are seen as savage brutes. In other words, these offers of employment are made with the idea that you are little more than intelligent beasts of burden. By the same token, the idea that tribal Demihumans may be able to qualify for positions as skilled labour will never cross their minds.

“The second thing is the web of hierarchies that I mentioned. In the city, common labourers sit at the bottom of everything. They are considered little more than paupers and vagrants with temporary employment. No guild represents their interests and no one cares if they live or die: only that they serve at the convenience of the established members of society. They are an expendable and self-replenishing resource.”

Chief Gan Zu still didn’t seem to understand what she was saying. Chief Esess, however, lashed his tail over the ground.

“…that’s messed up,” he said. “Are we to be nothing more than outcasts?”

“Not if I have anything to say about it,” Ludmila replied. “This goes beyond the Guilds, so it will take a lot of time and effort to push back.”

“Wait,” Chief Gan Zu said. “I’m still trying to digest your words here. How can the Humans have so much influence in the Sorcerous Kingdom?”

“I doubt that it is an exclusively Human phenomenon,” Ludmila said. “It just happens to be what drives this particular scenario. His Majesty the Sorcerer King mandated that each individual should pursue vocations that they have aptitudes for, but Human perception of Demihumans is limited to threat assessments and Human-centric folklore. Because Humans control the majority of industry in the Sorcerous Kingdom, they end up dictating how one may participate in the economy and society at large.”

“So, because ‘common labourers’ have such a miserable standing among Humans,” the Orc Chief crossed his massive arms, “the same standing is applied to Demihumans who are only offered work as common labourers.”

“Yes,” Ludmila nodded. “Demihumans will be painted with a pre-established social stigma. Combined with the common perception of tribal Demihumans, that stigma may be amplified to even greater levels. The longer this goes on, the more these views will entrench themselves. You will be seen as brutes that provide relatively cheap menial labour until the supply of Undead labour catches up with demand. Once that happens, they will not care what becomes of you.”

“Chief Esess is right,” Chief Gan Zu said grimly. “This is messed up. How do we fight it?”

“The answer is fairly obvious,” Ludmila said. “Getting to the answer is another matter entirely. We are not without our advantages, however, and the Guild embargo may actually be a blessing in disguise.”

Indeed, her visit to the Great Tomb of Nazarick and her discussions with the Sorcerer King and his vassals seemed to serve as a primer for what she and her people now faced. While her trip at first appeared to be the result of an innocent invitation to visit with Lady Shalltear, one would be a fool to believe that a god did anything for such shallow and simplistic reasons.

His Majesty extended his invitation all the way back when we were exploring the Katze Plains. How many of these nascent social issues might have been averted had I taken him up on his offer as soon as we returned?

Though the Sorcerous Kingdom had become the new abode of the god of justice, it was far from a just place. Even so, one could say that it was also the ideal place to explore how true justice might be achieved. Rather than being considered an obstacle to progress, her confrontation with the Guilds was a catalyst for meaningful reform. The Sorcerous Kingdom had no need for antiquated systems that did not carry out the will of its sovereign or serve the needs of his subjects.

“This is probably too much to go over in one sitting,” Ludmila said, “but I intend to use this conflict with the Guilds to help develop better systems than what we currently have.”

“Uh, I won’t pretend to know what you’re thinking, my lady,” Miss LeNez said, “but we’re tiny. We barely have any economic or political clout. How can we bring about change if no one believes we’re worth listening to?”

Many heads in the crowd nodded in agreement. As people who were brought up under the Guild System, it was understandable that they had difficulty envisioning a world without it and shared many of its blind spots. As someone who mostly lived outside of that system for her entire life, however, Ludmila saw plenty of ready solutions.

“What they believe will not matter,” Ludmila said. “Bring some tables together. Let us first develop a clear picture of each company’s current situation and their concerns going forward.”

She called for the Faculty of Alchemy to speak first. As with the other companies, all of its members residing in the village had been drawn by the appearance of Miss Hoffman and her delivery of the Guild’s ultimatum.

“The near future of our alchemical production is probably of the least concern,” Ludmila said. “The vast majority of our exports are purchased directly by the Imperial Army and our Artificers are still many years away from achieving the throughput to satisfy local demand. Are there any critical concerns that anyone would like to bring to my attention?”

“Yeah,” Miss LeNez said. “The embargo applies to imports, as well. Never mind taking years to catch up with local demand for magic items, we won’t be able to make those magic items at all without a new source of materials.”

“That is true,” Ludmila said. “This is not a guarantee by any measure, but I would like to conduct a trade expedition of sorts. What would your party require in terms of staff?”

“Uh…aside from Merchants, we’d need experts who can identify and analyse stuff. Being able to bring equipment would help.”

“I believe that can be arranged.”

“You having all the companies go, m’lady?” Someone asked.

“Yes, that is the plan,” Ludmila replied. “Some of our destinations are rather distant, so please plan accordingly. Chief Esess; Chief Gan Zu, prepare your delegations, as well.”

For perhaps the fifth time that evening, the two Demihuman Lords exchanged a confused look.

“Us?” Chief Esess asked.

“Oh, yes,” Ludmila smiled slightly, “you’re coming too.”