Rudolf Shilage
&
Grovemaster Zacharias
Ever the night owl for half a decade and counting, Rudolf separated himself from the growing collection of Kirins that were electing to take their hard-earned rest where they could, still milling about on his feet and running his hands through the supplies they had to leverage. In one part, it was an attempt to utilize his old favorite trick of calming the nerves via menial taskwork and maintenance of gear, to settle after the eventful day. On the other, though…
Hey. From the sounds of it, the old fogey’s got a war table going in the other room. I’m gonna sit in on it and see what I can do for organizing the defense. You coming with?”
“You made your understanding of sieges quite clear in Kugane. Don’t disappoint me.”
The ghost of a smile.
“...You got it.”With the threat of Valheim’s invasion only hours away, even if he listened to the tightness around the corners of his eyes, so used to ignoring them getting heavy now, he doubted he’d get much rest at all. Even putting aside that his dreams were strange and harrowing in the days since he had begun to rely so much on his passenger’s boons, the embattled young swordsman had always been the type that put off his meals until every task was off the plate in front of him— until he was sure he had it all squared away. So he worked, noting down everything they could reasonably bring to the table.
Of particular import, after a brief period of tense negotiation, was the box and ammo belt for Eliane’s favorite toy, going through the length and verifying the round count for the siege ahead. The fire control mechanism had been pretty easily set in place once he’d gotten the all-clear from the guardswoman, one of many elements of her crash course from the night before still thankfully intact within his skull. The mount, however, they’d need to save until they determined emplacement, swapping the gun over once they were at the point of fixture.
He glanced back over, where she, Esben, and the rest of their motley crew napped, whatever conversations they’d been winding down with at pause for the minute. The chamber was quiet, the only voices those leaking in from further away— Cid and Eve, albeit softly, deep in prayer in the main hall. He had
wanted to try and catch a quiet moment to make a couple inquiries before he set off to the chambers Zacharias was using to scrape together a plan for his whole city… But as luck had it, Neve had caught him drifting towards the archway, and gently shooed him back off.
The last thing they really needed was any form of disturbance, and though his passenger had already passed the threshold of “
there are way too many powerful white mages around here, bye” and gone back to shutting the hell up, one look at Neve’s strained, somber expression told him that he’d be felt even if he kept quiet and just patiently waited off to the side.
So instead, once he’d verified everything Team Kirin had to work with, he marched his way over to the haggard old Grovemaster, hastily jotted lines of shorthand adorning a sheet of parchment. Reference points, for the event that he needed to do a little math with the whole thing, and as always… room to sketch. Brightlam, such as it was, was an intensely
vertical city— even
if Zacharias had a better grasp of siegecraft than he could ever give an old pacifist tree-hugger credit for prior to witnessing it firsthand, he needed a proper visualization of the topography to get the most out of their big point defense armament.
But that, too, seemed a pretty big “if”.
”I want apprentices embedded with each squadron manning the branches,” Zacharias commanded to a runner, handing him a sealed roll of orders.
”The fighting will be heaviest once the Valheimr penetrate the treetops, and we can’t risk a stray bombardment strafing the treetops. Now go, man!” Said runner raised a hand in salute before dashing off to deliver said orders, the sage who issued them given a rare reprieve to take a breath.
At least, he did until he spied Rudolf in the corner of his eye. Biting back a sigh, Zacharias turned to face the Sagramore hunter, his expression weary.
”Yes, boy? Has something of import occurred with your group? I’m rather…preoccupied at the moment ensuring that my home does not fall.”Alright, that was already a good start. Better than the absolute worst case scenario he could have walked in on by leagues— that of a man whose pacifism left him panicked and disorganized when forced to shelve it.
Nodding, Rudolf stepped forward, his back a little straighter, his tone growing regimented, clipped, direct— slipping into a mantle he’d never truly earned his chance to wear, no matter the training for it.
“A goal we share, Grovemaster Zacharias,” he began, unfazed by the prickly response.
“In spite of what some of the more vocal elements of our cohort have intimated or outright saber-rattled about during prior negotiations. I’d like to dig into what you’ve drawn up for the defensive operation, to see how our party and resources would be best integrated towards retaining the city. As well,”He smirked. There was a black humor in it, but not enough to pull him off course.
“I’d sleep a lot better knowing I lent whatever learning and experience I could to organizing this whole thing. At the very least, we could compare notes; I imagine Neve’s got you mostly caught up on what’s headed your way, but we can’t be too careful.”Zacharias didn’t deign to respond with words, instead backing away from the war table in order to let Rudolf have a view of it.
Alright… let’s see what we’re working with. the would-be young officer grimly thought, letting his gilded eyes, flecked with black and growing reddened with the deepening hour, glide over the outlaid field, drinking in detail.
The defense of Brightlam would be widespread, squads of soldiers, priests, and mages in loose formations across the city’s boughs and branches so as to avoid the worst of airship bombardments. Notably, defense in the leaves and treetops themselves were but a token effort: it seemed Zacharias aimed to cede Brightlam’s first layer in order to have the Valheimr lost and confused in the bramble up above.
Most of all, though…it seemed there were no provisions made for the Kirins within these plans. At least, not that Rudolf could see. Zacharias raised an eyebrow at the boy, waiting for the inevitable question.
He was met with a furrowed brow and pensive, contemplating frown within the silence that stood between them, that of a mind grappling with a problem, turning it over, trying to find the kernels of familiarity within. Immediately, he’d been struck by the gap between his schooling and the reality they’d been walked into— as the second son of a long line of proud Edreni cavalrymen, the bulk of what he knew in the operational scale existed in two primary dimensions— breadth and depth.
Were they planning a ground offensive it’d be right in his wheelhouse, without question. But, just as he’d begun to consider regarding the question of Elly’s gun, Brightlam, and it’s projected avenues of defense, were a wholly different beast to the fields, hills, and even mountains he had studied before everything went to ruin.
He wargamed on boards, not branches. Still, even with that said, the more he studied the placements and differentiations of canopy Zacharias had come up with, the more he began to grasp at the underlying logic.
“Looks like you’re expecting them to punch through the top layers of the canopy before they land, to try and disrupt your terrain screening,” he noted, a finger hovering over the depicted treetop before flowing down.
“And then tie them down in the understory with multiple skirmishes before they touch down onto the city proper. Are these shaping actions, or is this where you plan on conducting the bulk of the fighting?”It
looked, albeit in a dimension and terrain he had only a week’s worth of experience in dealing with, like the initial phase of a mobile defense operation, where those upper squads of knife fighters and their embedded apprentices were tasked with the harassment and delaying of enemy force penetration until cued for a staged withdrawal, slowly roping their foes into a predetermined counteroffensive. Key to that concept was determining the cues between the defenders’ fixing and striking forces; the latter knowing when the time was right to commit to crashing into the outstretched enemy, and the former knowing where they would need to turn and hold ground instead of continually reeling the attackers in through the depth of the battle area.
Designation of your kill zone was paramount here, as was timing, and upwind of that, communication and maneuver. Brightlam
was good for that, most likely holding the advantage in navigating the labyrinthine branches that shadowed the city, even with concessions made for the pseudo-dragoons Valon had been busy training. While they would be better equipped than most invaders to negotiate the descent through the branches, Brightlam’s defenders had been built up through their entire careers to navigate them as second nature. The terrain advantage was squarely in their corner— thus why it seemed bombardment from on high would be a likely opening move from Valheim’s airships.
But still, Rudolf couldn’t shake the sense that he needed to uncover more parts to the picture than he saw right away.
“As well, I’d like to be sure we’re on the same page regarding the forces you have available to muster. After the events of this whole day, I imagine you’d be hurting for reserve fighters, if not worse.”Zacharias couldn’t help but look impressed, despite himself.
”You’ve had instruction in these arts, then. Noble?” That was where any praise he had ended, though.
”Regardless, you commit the same errors as most outsiders. The same ones the Valheimr will make as well. Recall that we have magic. We have the ability to spark life. At our magi’s command, the boughs of Brightlam will do more than provide cover and hindrance. To say nothing of the Eidolons willing to come to the tree’s defense.” He finished with a slight huff, frowning at the subject. It seemed that despite his skill in the field, open warfare was still something that sat poorly with the Grovemaster.
”We will speak further on this subject in a few hours once the remainder of your party are present, but know that you have been factored into the battle plan. I would advise preparing for an offensive strike on your part. As Cid tells me, the majority of your talents would be wasted in a static defense.”A pause heralded a cock of the head.
“Well, you’ve neatly pre-empted my following question regarding shaping the terrain to our benefit. I trust you’ll be canalizing them towards the majority of your strength, leveraging the Eidolons’ attacks for counter-bombardment of the funneled landing forces, and already have a pretty good idea of their most likely points of entry in terms of ‘viable landing zones’ according to what intelligence the False Alambert and the other saboteurs presumably passed along.” he nodded while pushing through the rest of what seemed mutually understood, appearing for a moment to rise to neither praise, nor critique, nor the all-too-common deduction of his background.
At this point, it was easier to point to people that didn’t seem to sniff it out immediately— and in this particular instance, he had mentally prepared to reveal his exact pedigree if it meant making the point towards how deep in that reviled “Edreni War Machine” the young soldier had
truly been steeped.
“And mind you, we did have to contend with our share of the magic you command firsthand to even reach this point of discussion, Grovemaster.”Alright, maybe he was a little annoyed. He had taken an explosion straight to the face today as the result of the confluence of poor timing and inability to establish communication, he had reason to be sore about the subject of
mistakes. But no matter. Fine. They were all on the same side.
“We’re a crafty bunch. I’d hardly call us quite so specialized as to be “wasted”— but nominally, Cid’s correct. The majority of our ensemble is better equipped to serve as either a mobile strike force or, as we’ve lately needed to prove, covert operation cell— both keen on piercing hostile territory and acting from within. I’ll be sure to pass that along before I retire. The primary reason I stopped by was actually our largest outlier in that summation: Dame-Commander Laruelle, and her looted rotary gun.” He turned back to the available maps, poring over the topography, trying to square away distances, sightlines, trending north and east— towards Osprey, where what he knew of their foe had them projecting their forces from.
“I’m pretty sure it’d be best served in the original role we encountered it within, in this instance: a fixed defensive firing point. Originally, we were of the belief that we would use it to try and attack the airships or landing parties on their descent.”He glanced over his shoulder, not to the Grovemaster, but to the direction of the main hall, Cid and Eve’s prayers now beyond the reach of his ears.
“To tell the truth, I was toying with the beginnings of an idea that would utilize it in tandem with Eve, if she was fit to fight alongside us one more time— we would have potentially been able to cast a net that would screen the advance of their ships. Especially given that I’ve seen her muster the power to shoot one of them down outright in Osprey.”His eyes narrowed, seeing the billowing flame in his mind once more, before shrugging and looking back to the table.
“I’d meant to ask Cid about Eve’s condition before I came to pick your brain like this, but Neve cautioned me away from disturbing them and you’ve already delineated other defensive measures in depth. To that end, I’d simply like to make note of Laruelle and the gun’s availability for static emplacement— she’d be a powerful asset for cutting through what masses of Valheimr landing personnel might pass through those causeways towards your deeper lines. Could free up an Eidolon for the aforementioned air defense, for instance.”His finger tapped the hardwood beneath, as though putting a pin in it by hand. He could read the room well enough, even with all the detail beginning to boil over as he tried to crack into the subject of warfare. In a way, perhaps his fervor came from the feeling of slipping on an old hat after a long time. Maybe if they were just one day removed from the fighting, he’d get the chance to really dust off all the gears, but…
His hands lifted, before steepling before him.
“In any event, that’s just a consideration I’d be remiss to leave unmentioned— given we’re on short time, we obviously wouldn’t want to edit the doctrinal outline any more than we need to. Given your embedded tasks for us in the existing structure, that renders the point moot. She’s not likely to want anyone manning it beyond her, Esben, and potentially myself, cutting our strike team down by a third at least. What do you intend to leverage us against, then?””Your consideration has been noted.” Zacharias bristled dismissively. Even if they were setting aside previous arguments, it seemed his distaste for the Edrenian war machine and those scions it produced remained.
”Regardless, as I said: we’ll be deploying you and yours to proactively counterattack their leadership once the assault begins. I don’t care to repeat myself, so if you could be so kind as to take a rest, young man?” Just the slightest tinge of grandfatherly concern entered his voice as he beheld Rudolf’s state and comparative youth before his expression hardened again as he returned to considering the war map.
“We’re in a very deep hole, sir.”His reply was quiet, but the firm part of his gaze within the tight red corners of his eyes held steady. Something beyond him was pushing this, too.
“We stop pulling ourselves up when we’re out.”He followed the old man’s gaze one final time, letting the silence hang as he scrutinized the operational areas, the flow of battle in his mind’s eye, then… raised his arms, the white flag of defeat flying.
“But I know when I’m being ushered out of the room. I’ll say a prayer to Himstus for you and trust your judgement. The Lord of War might be the only God left with any love to spare for me, after all— Just one more question, and then I’ll go.”His eyes drifted up, leaving the central chapel on the map to rest at the rafters, coiled in shadow.
”When this is over, and we’ve routed them— what’s going to become of Isolde? Of her remains, her remembrance?”She
was a traitor, in the end. She had seen fit to tear into them, and her fellow Grovemaster, to further the ends of the invaders. She had been whipped into a high frenzy, and her death was likely the only reason they had a chance to sit here and organize this defensive.
She, much like him, had lost her way. What was made of that, with all the harm her misguided judgements had caused? Surely, there were limits to forgiveness even with the absolution that was death itself— and yet…
A deep, shuddering breath was Zacharias’s only response for a long moment, the old man raising a hand to massage his brow. Eventually, he forced himself to respond.
”...The people can ill afford to know of how deep the rot ran. Suffice to say, they will only know that she lost her way and was killed for it.” His expression solidified into a hard line.
”Perhaps those who know the truth will disapprove. But the chaos that would erupt from knowing one of the Grovemasters was manipulated by outside forces and another was replaced entirely would be unspeakable. Drama Asnaeu would lose all trust in its institutions should that occur. It cannot come to pass. Now leave me. I find my tolerance for questions used up in this moment.”“…I see. Himstus guide your command.”There was nothing left to say after that.
Rudolf turned on his heel, and left as he was bid. He would return to the chamber in the silence he had left it— spending a few moments to chart a rough diagram that would outline the primary thrusts of Zacharias’s gambit for the rest of the recuperating Kirins, before falling back upon his favored rituals of war— anointing his blades anew with oil and steel, bidding they cut true as any man had forged.
The Kirins, and the nation, would need no less come morning.
