Legacy of the Plains: Act 5, Chapter 25

Chapter 25

Once the survey teams and their escorts arrived, the Sorcerer King and his entourage boarded the knarr and they went on their way. After Ludmila made her periodic report to the Grand Marshal, she stared down at the strange coin that His Majesty had permitted her to keep, pondering its significance.

It was a coin from a nation unknown to her as a former subject of Re-Estize, despite the notion that Re-Estize was supposedly located within its former borders. Even with her aristocratic education – which lent great weight to culture, history and language – she was just as ignorant of it as she was of the civilization that once occupied the Katze Plains.

The histories of the Theocracy, whose records traced back all the way to the original advent of the Six Great Gods, made no specific mention of any Human nations to its north. All she knew was that Humans were once more widespread in the past, and they were driven to near-extinction: cornered in a portion of the land where the Theocracy now stood.

With this being the case, the nation to which this coin belonged was ancient indeed. The only pieces of present-day knowledge that seemed like a tie to this ancient Human history were the various claims made on the Katze Plains and its surrounding regions by every country along its borders. Perhaps they were not lying or twisting the facts at all: it was possible that all of the Human nations of the region were descended, in part or in whole, from the ancient Human population that fell before the onslaught of their inhuman neighbours. Once the Great Seeding was underway, these descendants spread to reclaim their lost lands, all sharing the same ancestral claims.

Hopefully, a decisive answer could be found in Lagaš, the capital of the ruined Katze Plains. If not, she would have to extend her efforts to the Dwarf Kingdom and any other leads that she came across.

The first sign that they were approaching the city was not any ruins or a tower, but a drastic increase in the concentration of negative energy. Ludmila narrowed her eyes at the sensation: it was not just a massive amount of death, but most likely the sort that was unexpected and unwanted – the mass slaughter of innocents caught up in an unremembered tempest of anguish and grief.

Levelled ruins characteristic of the region appeared along the nearby eastern shore. After about a kilometre travelling further downriver, a tower appeared out of the mists, looming over the water. It was not as large as its counterpart in the previous city, but neither was it the only one. Two more towers came into view, both eerily truncated at exactly the same height as every other tower in the plains. Her eyes traced the ruined skyline, then widened as she noticed what lay ahead.

『Hard to starboard!』

The ship listed heavily as the captain immediately responded to her urgent order. The Vampire Brides moved to secure the furniture in the hold. Lady Shalltear leaned against the throne to keep it from sliding off of the deck. Her angry voice rolled over the bow.

“What was that!”

There was no need to answer Lady Shalltear’s shout. Shattered remains of a toppled tower came into view. The Sorcerer King rose to his feet after the ship righted itself again. His Majesty came forward to where Ludmila stood agape at the sight.

“Now I’m really curious,” the Sorcerer King said. “This building is at least twice as tall as the palace spires in Arwintar. More to the point, it’s wider than the Imperial Palace.”

They continued to glide along the side of the fallen structure, following its length as it gradually disappeared into the river. The slow, roiling anger from before rose within Ludmila again, and a tear trickled down her right cheek.

“I can’t take this, Your Majesty,” she said through gritted teeth. “Why would anyone do this? Even Demihumans would understand the significance of such architectural achievements, would they not?”

“I believe that anyone possessed of intelligence should,” His Majesty replied. “Demihuman, Heteromorph or otherwise. You are an upright and earnest individual, Lady Zahradnik, so you may not understand that the appreciation of monumental undertakings does not invariably lead to awe and respect. It may just as easily lead to envy, fear and spite.”

“Surely, such actions are unforgivable…”

“Indeed,” the Sorcerer King’s voice grew grim. “If anyone threatened ruin upon what I consider an important legacy, I would grant them no quarter. Nothing of their existence would remain…well, maybe some small reminder of their folly.”

Ludmila’s astonishment and ensuing anger persisted as they rounded the submerged top of the tower. She couldn’t imagine the time, effort or artifice required to raise such a grand structure. That it was one amongst many further drove home how prosperous and advanced the region once was. The political and economic shockwaves its downfall must have sent throughout the region must have been ruinous in themselves.

Ten minutes later, the Ruin’s Wake came into view, ‘anchored’ just offshore of a massive harbour gate. Within, they found a single berth that appeared to have been recently cleaned up. Captain Iškur flew over, hovering alongside her vessel.

“Welcome to Lagaš, Your Majesty,” he said. “We’ve cleared a berth – well, it’s where the Ruin’s Wake usually moors herself, but it’s the best we could do on such short notice. Not that I hold that against you, Your Maj–”

“I understand, Captain Iškur,” the Sorcerer King answered with a regal nod of his head. “Thank you for your warm welcome.”

“I would like to borrow Baroness Zahradnik if Your Majesty does not mind. I have a number of colleagues in the city, and they’re more, erm, normal as far as Elder Liches go. They’re going to require some preparation, lest they suffer Lady Shalltear’s wrath.”

“Very well,” His Majesty said. “We’ll be taking a look around in the meantime.”

“Of course, Your Majesty,” the Elder Lich bobbed his bestial skull. “As our sovereign, you may go wherever you wish.”

Ludmila followed Captain Iškur out of the harbour district. Unlike the other cities, the streets they walked through were lined with mostly intact buildings. Spectral Undead could occasionally be seen drifting by, but the mindless Undead along their path appeared to have been cleared away in preparation for His Majesty’s impending arrival. Like the other cities, however, everything was caked with the dust of ages.

“Why is the condition of Lagaš so different?” She asked, “Everything was levelled on our way here.”

“It seems that someone did try, my lady,” the Elder Lich answered. “There are sections of the city that were reduced to rubble – the outskirts and the southwestern quarter are totally destroyed – and the city’s been put to the torch. Whoever it was couldn’t finish the job, though: the towers and buildings in the city centre are magically reinforced and the invaders simply ran out of time.”

“Ran out of time?”

“I don’t think they understood the full implications of forcefully depopulating a city of this size.”

Meaning to say that the sheer amount of violent death suddenly piled up in one location led to an explosion of negative energy. If her thus-far accurate estimates for the region’s population centres held, half a million people once lived here. There was no time to take care of the aftermath and probably no interest in purifying the city. By the looks of the wind-blown pavement, nature was also heavily suppressed, so there was nothing to counteract the cascade of Undeath that manifested in the wake of the city’s downfall.

“Have you any idea who did this?”

“No, only their trail of devastation was left behind. As far as I can tell, it started from the south. There’s a whole fleet of sunken warships north of the river delta, so whoever lived here had time to prepare for what came. After that, well, everything downriver was flattened like you saw up north.”

She continued following the Elder Lich through the city’s half-buried thoroughfares, eventually reaching a grand promenade leading up to a magnificent dome. At the top of the slowly ascending path, she stopped at the sight awaiting her.

This can’t be right.

Proudly looking over the approach was a six-metre tall statue. Ludmila blinked slowly as she registered its features.

“Captain Iškur,” she said. “Did you raise a statue of yourself here?”

“That’s a good joke, my lady,” he chuckled, “but I’m just an Elder Lich, not a…a…whatever you call people that work with stone. It’s got fur and flesh and a nice set of equipment, too.”

The statue that stood before her was that of a felid Beastman. One arm was held behind its back, while the clawed hand of its other arm was raised in a powerful, triumphant gesture. Rather than savage and fearsome, the figure looked resolute and regal.

She walked up to the base of the statue, attempting to make out the unmarred words carved into the pillar at the base.

“Duke…”

“Iškur.”

Ludmila looked up at the Elder Lich.

“I thought you couldn’t read this script.”

“That’s who he is,” the captain shrugged. “I was born right here, at the base of this statue. Something told me that’s who I am, and that’s who he was. Since I appear to have manifested as an echo of this individual, he must have been a great figure indeed.”

She looked back at the wording on the pillar. Some of the words and letters were familiar, but many were not. A few were quite clear.

“Duke Iškur, Pentarch of…”

“Lagaš.”

“…Lagaš. Something Tiger of the Reach. Second day, Upper Wind Month, 135th year…High Imperial Calendar.”

Beastman royalty…in a Human Empire?

“For someone that isn’t from around here,” the captain said lightly, “your grasp of the local language is surprisingly good.”

“There is some guesswork involved,” she replied absently. “The script here has many letters and symbols that are common to the region, but a few are entirely foreign to me – probably ones borrowed from nonhuman languages. These numbers are the same as those that we use…the words…”

Ludmila frowned as she realised what the nation that the words were common to was.

“These words are similar to those being used in the Baharuth Empire,” she said. “In particular, the ones they’ve been slowly tossing out Re-Estize ones for. I could never figure out the why and how of it, but…”

It appeared that someone in the Empire had records of the lost language. Was it a move to legitimise their claim over the region, or an attempt to reclaim the past? She supposed it could be both at the same time.

“What does the rest say?”

“It’s a list with dates. Battles. I think the parts that I can’t read are the names of locations used in the past, as well as achievements. This Beastman Duke was probably a great General of the empire that once stood here. Are there any other statues like this?”

“At the top of each promenade leading to this building.”

Captain Iškur led her around to the next statue. It did not depict a Beastman, but neither did it appear to be Human. A feminine figure with flowing robes and childlike features seemed to merge with the waves of water carved into the stone. In her hands was a simple, yet elegant, lyre.

“Duchess Víla, Pentarch of Lagaš. Eternal Mistress of Crystalline Waters. Twentieth day, Middle Water Month, 4th year, High Imperial Calendar.”

“I always wondered why she was there,” the captain said. “She looked like a kid, but I guess she might have really been a granny. Some sort of Heteromorph?”

“A Nereid, I think. The Víla are a legend amongst my people, but I never thought our name for them might refer to an individual from the distant past.”

Unfamiliar script flowed below. From the way it appeared to be structured, Ludmila thought that it might have been a poem.

They continued their circuit of the building. The next statue was an Elf Pentarch cradling an orb of fire in her hands, followed by a Pentarch of an insectoid race she had not seen before. She could read neither of their names. A rugged-looking Human came next, dressed as a warrior with a glaive-like weapon in hand.

“Duke Jelen Inyel Manev Erex Doubek, Pentarch of Lagaš. Stormbringer. Twentieth day, Middle Water Month, 4th year. High Imperial Calendar.”

Below was a list like the one under Duke Iškur’s. He appeared to be a militant member of Human royalty.

“What’s the smile for?” Captain Iškur asked.

“I’m smiling?” Ludmila frowned.

“Er…just a bit, maybe?”

“I suppose I’m slightly bemused,” she said. “Doubek is my mother’s maiden name, but she said that it’s a fairly common last name amongst my people. He has a common first name, too. Despite the common name, it seems that one of us made it pretty far.”

A glow in the fog grew brighter as they approached what appeared to be the main entrance to the building. The statue of another Human stood atop its pedestal, adorned in plain, but clean robes. The staff in his right hand was topped with a brightly-glowing crystal. A large tome was cradled in his left. His somewhat humble appearance was made no taller than the rest, yet at the same time, something caused him to tower above them all.

Ludmila walked up to the placard at the statue’s base, eyes tracing over the letters in the stone.

“High Emperor Archeleos III. Lower Earth Month, 59th year. High Imperial Calendar.”

He had no epithet and there was nothing below the placard. The man appeared as unassuming as his garb, yet nothing could hide the sheer sense of presence exuded by the statue. She wondered if it was merely the exquisite quality of the stonework, or if the stonework reflected his existence in the flesh.

“This one was the boss, huh,” Captain Iškur said from beside her. “I told the others that he was, but they kept going on about how the others had a more impressive panoply and additional notes below their placards.”

Preoccupied with her examination of the statues, the fact that she was supposed to be meeting with the Elder Lich’s colleagues had slipped her mind.

“I suppose we should go see them now,” she said. “How many of your colleagues reside here, by the way?”

“It’s just the six of us, my lady.”

“Don’t tell me you each manifested under one of these statues…”

“Hah! That would be quite something, but no – I’m the only one. The rest were born in the towers around here.”

“Then is there anything I should know about them before we head in?”

“Hmm…not that I can think of. We’re just a humble little cabal that you could probably find anywhere.”