Legacy of the Plains: Act 1, Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Dawn rose over the Sorcerous Kingdom, bathing its rolling fields and forested hills in warm light. The sun did not reach every place so early in the morning, however.

Cloaked in her forest green mantle, Ludmila Zahradnik gazed down at her demesne: Warden’s Vale. No, it wouldn’t be right to only consider the verdant highland valley her territory anymore. Since the early summer, the borders of her fief had expanded over the forests north to the lands of Countess Jezne and Count Völkchenheim. It stretched west along the southern border ranges to the buffer zone with the Kingdom of Re-Estize in the west.

The peak upon which she stood – and the barrier range that stood between herself and Corelyn County in the east – were also now part of her land: the new home of the mysterious Krkonoše and one timid Frost Dragon. In terms of its area, the land she now ruled over was huge. It was beyond the wildest imaginings of any inland Baron or Viscount and rivalled the realms of the most powerful Counts in the entire region. For a Frontier Noble, however, she supposed that it was to be expected.

The duties of a border house included expansion over unclaimed and untamed territories for their nation, should circumstances allow it. And indeed, her circumstances allowed it. With the rise of the Sorcerous Kingdom came security, order and prosperity. Well, she was still hammering out the problems with security, but one could not say that the Crown held back on its obligations. It was more than enough to protect the harbour and her villages, and it was more than enough to project sufficient force over the surrounding lands that any nation would consider it de facto control.

In the south, the upper reaches of the Katze River awaited her: a land where humanity had long struggled and failed to wrest from the control of the local tribes. Even the Theocracy could not hold it. No matter how many hundreds of thousands of Demihumans they fought and killed, there always seemed to be more, making the position of Human pioneers untenable over years and decades of attempted development.

It wouldn’t be so with the Sorcerous Kingdom. This was less the fact that their military was so overwhelmingly powerful and more that the Sorcerous Kingdom had no interest in ousting the local tribes. They would be invited first. Subjugated, if necessary. Then the long process of integration could begin. Just what ‘integration’ meant to Ludmila constantly shifted as time went on.

An administrator of Human lands – be it Re-Estize, Baharuth, Roble, or the Slane Theocracy – would focus their efforts on turning newly claimed territories into places considered idyllic and productive for humanity. The wilderness would be cleared for agriculture, the remaining forests managed for lumber, mines and quarries dug. Villages and towns would spring up, bringing industry and progress.

In her vast expanse of new territory, she could create a place for a million Human souls. More, with the agricultural practices that came with the Sorcerous Kingdom: her demesne could support well over ten million if efficiently utilized.

Except she had no desire to do so. Absolutely none.

Ludmila’s gaze swept over the forests carpeting the slopes of the southern border ranges, flowing over the former lands of the Frontier Lords. Beyond what was required to maintain a presence over her demesne, she had no intention of creating a landscape of rolling pastures and fields of grain.

It was certainly a strange notion for a follower of the Six Great Gods, who should be promoting the advancement of humankind, but Andrei Zahradnik, the founder of her house, also carried this notion close to his heart. His descendants, too, followed in his footsteps, and Ludmila was no exception. This thinking had turned into an advantage – or at least she felt that it had. The Sorcerous Kingdom was not a Human nation and thus did not hold the same expectations for territorial development. It was a place where all races were welcome, so long as they respected the rule of law. Humans were, of course, also protected in the same manner.

The Theocracy’s attempts to spread the seeds of humanity in the north nearly two centuries ago had met with dubious results. More than dubious: roughly twenty-five million Humans occupied the lands of Roble, Re-Estize, Baharuth and Karnassus. The vast majority had fallen to heresy, casting aside the teachings of the gods and oblivious to the centuries of effort expended on their behalf by the Theocracy. By doing so, every nation in the north had become complacent and weak in their own way – even the Baharuth Empire.

With the lessons presented by this history in mind, Ludmila thought it better to have a more manageable population where the potential of humanity could be carefully cultivated. Her territory would become a microcosm of the Sorcerous Kingdom, where Humans would be able to display their true quality and secure a place for their race in perpetuity.

A small sigh escaped her lips. Thoughts about humanity invariably cast a shadow over her thoughts. Much like the shadow of the mountains over Warden’s Vale, her new reality cast a gloom over everything. As much as she continued to look out for Humans, Ludmila was no longer one of them. She had inexplicably risen as one of the Undead: of a type unknown even to the Sorcerous Kingdom.

Ludmila supposed that she should at least be thankful that it was one that mimicked Human form. It was as if the negative energy that fueled her new existence was made to reconstitute her former identity. Her body reacted in a way that was by and large Human. There was a beating heart within her chest. Warm blood flowed through her veins – this was one of the first things Lady Shalltear insisted on trying out.

As Undead, Ludmila could no longer be turned into a Vampire and she no longer healed in the same manner as the living, so her liege had taken a nibble out of her directly. Apparently, she still tasted the same, save for the general malaise that weighed upon her. Lady Shalltear promptly advised her to ‘fix her flavour’ before refilling her bottle and going on her way.

Sleeping and eating were unnecessary, though she could if she wanted to. Everything tasted and felt the same. Nothing came out the other end unless she wanted it to. She had no idea where it went or where it came back from in the interim, or if that was how it even worked. Her hair and nails no longer grew, and trimming them counted as damage to her ‘natural weapons’. This damage was regenerated as whatever she had become constantly worked to maintain a facsimile of the Human noblewoman who had perished in the shadow of the Azerlisia Mountains.

For all of her new body’s efforts to assert that she was Human, it cheated in places that were not so easy to discern with a cursory inspection. With her tireless body came inhuman strength. She could sprint endlessly and hold a longbow at full draw forever. Objects she would have had great difficulty handling before were easily manipulated. Lady Shalltear happily informed Ludmila that she also was ‘tougher’ and more ‘attractive’. Ludmila had no idea what one had to do with the other.

There were too many unknowns; too many things that were different. The fact that so many lines were blurred made her uncomfortable. It often felt like she was a certain way because whatever now drove her made it that way. ‘Life’ was normal, yet not. Questions over whether she was acting of her own will or being forced to behave like the late Ludmila Zahradnik shadowed her actions and thoughts.

Why did it have to be this way? If she could clearly be identified as a more well-known type of Undead, she could at least carry some expectations for herself. As things stood, Ludmila did not know what sort of threat she represented to those around her, or what compulsions she might fall prey to.

For this reason, she distanced herself. As the Undead did not age, it was inevitable that people would find out and worries tormented her over how she would be perceived. It was different from the fear and opinions that others had for Ludmila Zahradnik, the Human. Being viewed as a fearsome militant noble or a stern Liege was something she was used to and expected; being seen as some sort of abomination was not – especially when she herself would consider things the same as they.

Something nudged her in the leg. Ludmila looked down at her feet, unable to suppress the smile that crept onto her face. As fearful as she was of getting close to others, the same could not be said for those that wanted to come close to her.

She bent down to scoop up the young Krkonoše Druid in her arms. It probably wasn’t much older than four months, so it looked nothing more than a ball of white fluff with a black head and limbs. As irresistibly cute as it was, the young Krkonoše was probably already capable of Second Tier magic – an achievement considered rare amongst Humans.

“What do you think of me, I wonder?” She murmured as she gently scratched the nubs on its head.

The Krkonoše let out a high-pitched bleat in response, and imagery filled her mind.

Cosy mountain meadows nestled between rugged peaks. Cascades of crystal waters flowing through bountiful primal forests. Verdant valleys teeming with life. An eternal sanctuary where all is right with the world…

The imagery was the name by which the Krkonoše ‘knew’ her. Over it all, she served as the keeper of this vision; one who protected and maintained the balance of nature. The Warden of the Vale.

Looking over the lands below; at the work that lay ahead of her, it felt more her than the name by which so many others knew her. An identity etched into her very soul. Did the Volkhv know what would happen the moment she told him who she was? The name he had ‘returned’ to her had been incomplete at the time: most likely because Ludmila lacked comprehension. As the vision that she had for her territory grew over the weeks and months, however, missing pieces of this identity would occasionally manifest themselves. Sometimes, they would make her aware of missing elements that she hadn’t noticed before.

Eternity was the latest of these pieces to appear. Something that even the most sagacious of mortals could only ever speculate upon. An existence that only those with immortal lifespans could truly know.

The irony of this existence was not lost on her. Undead were not perceived to be natural – they were generally considered precisely the opposite. If she could write a letter to the Ludmila of the past and tell her that she would one day become an Undead Ranger, it would be received with a snort of derision at best. The reverse side of the letter would be reused as blank paper.

Her fingers touched upon a piece of debris nestled in the Krkonoše’s thick coat. Looking down, she found a strange, circular object.

“Did you come to me to have this removed?”

The Krkonoše belated in confirmation.

Ludmila pressed the tip of her tongue against her lip as she tried to work the object off. Whatever it was, it was stuck fast. After some effort, and worried that she would hurt the young Krkonoše, she decided to just cut off the tuft of wool it was attached to. Except her dagger couldn’t cut through. She tested the edge of the blade on her thumb. Was it dull, or was it sharp? It certainly didn’t cut her or the Krkonoše’s wool. She was sure she hadn’t used it for anything since it was last delivered to Kovalev for maintenance.

In the end, she set down the Krkonoše and equipped her glaive, deactivating its effects. As if sensing her nervousness, the Krkonoše stood very still. She was able to remove the tuft of wool with ease.

Raising the stubborn object stuck to the equally stubborn tuft of wool, she examined it with a critical eye. The glossy, object had a single line drawn through it. Beyond that, she could make little sense of what it was or how it got there.

Below, the sail of her ship drifting up the river caught her attention. Germaine LeNez was due to arrive today with apprentices in tow. Perhaps the Perfumer could make an appraisal after she was done moving in.

Ludmila put the mysterious object away and looked down at the Krkonoše, who was gaily dancing around her feet.

“Are you capable of casting Fly yet?” She asked.

The Krkonoše stopped its prancing and turned to bleat at her. Ludmila felt the enchantment suffuse her body and she willed herself into the air. After expressing her thanks, she floated down towards the valley floor, pleased at the notion that the cute little Krkonoše would probably survive the coming winter. Perhaps it would grow up to be a powerful Volkhv.

Below, the ongoing developments proceeded apace. She twisted her lip as the various features grew to fill her field of view, wondering if she had overdone things. With Mare’s alterations to the Vale, the harbour town – a future harbour City – was being built on its newly raised foundations.

This stone foundation was raised well above the river and several metres above the marshlands and lake on the other side. It occupied a strip of land roughly four kilometres wide and fourteen kilometres long. Transport between the different areas of the city would be facilitated by Soul Eaters drawing carriages designed to move large groups of people around.

I definitely overdid it…

On paper, at least, it neatly fulfilled her future projections for the limited urban development within her territory. Seeing the empty space before her in person, however, made her squirm uncomfortably.

The city would be an island fortress unlike any seen before, expressly designed to serve as a major base for the Sorcerous Kingdom’s Army, the various companies founded by House Zahradnik, and all of the services and industries required to support them. That was the plan, at least. For now, it was a strange-looking strip of rocky land sticking up between the river and the reshaped marsh, with a handful of buildings being raised in each district. Any newcomer to the place would surely think it a strange sight.

As she adjusted her descent to land near the temporary pier to await the arrival of Germaine LeNez, Ludmila released a small sigh. Like the rest of the Sorcerous Kingdom, Warden’s Vale was undergoing vast change. Tumultuous as the changes to her own life were, the world, as always, did not wait for any one person. She would have to work out her personal issues along the way.