Michael Clark
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Butcher of Gadobhra Chapter 547
🕑 Added 2025-12-10 01:54:34 +0000 UTCLike most dragons, Arthramax enjoyed sleeping away most of his days on his hoard, or reclining and watching minions recount the stacks of coins and polish every item. The proper care of his hoard was of the utmost importance to him, as it was to any proper dragon. A great deal of his power, both physical and financial was tied to his hoard. Financially, it was the collateral that he used for his investments in several Draconik Pyramid Holding Companies. A portion of his hoard's growth was sent each month to the Pyramid to be distributed upward to the older and wiser drakes at the top. In a similar fashion, hundreds of less important and younger drakes below him paid him a share of their hoards. It was all very complicated and wonderful, and he could stare at his slowly increasing total, waiting for it to tick upward as his tribute came in. Watching the numbers go up was thrilling.
But not as thrilling as his daily tribute from the adoring worshippers in his villages. Each day, when the sun reached its peak, golden tribute would be placed upon their tribute altars and the gold would rain down from the large, rune-carved stone above him. Solid gold bars, platters, works of art, and raw gold from smelted ore, it all poured down and he giggled and let it bounce off his head. He'd never before had such a large hoard and it was wonderful to watch it grow. He barely missed the small hoard he had in the north. His progeny were fighting over it now. He'd given 1% to each of his oldest hatchlings and encouraged them to 'share nicely while I'm gone'. Draconik for 'fight it out amongst yourselves.' As soon as the bloodshed was over and a few, (or maybe only one) hatchling was in charge of his old hoard, they'd become part of his pyramid and his old wealth would go to work for him once again. It was the best way to handle things. Leaving a ton and a half of treasure in an old cave wasn't proper management and was sure to be stolen by some group of annoying humans or goblins.
One of the things he loved about his new position as God Emperor were the security perks. His new hoard was many levels below the ground, guarded by hundreds of his faithful worshippers, inside a city of thousands. He could sleep securely, knowing that no one could touch his gold. He only had to lay back and wait for it to drop on him. Only...that wasn't happening. His golden shower was late! He grumbled and deliberately knocked over piles of stacked coins, making more work for his minions. How dare they be late with his tribute. Long minutes ticked by and when no gold had come in an hour, he roared his displeasure. A timid priest entered the room and prostrated himself.
"How may this unworthy morsel attend upon your glorious self?"
"Where is my gold?"
The priest misunderstood and pointed hesitantly at the hoard. It was the wrong answer and a long, sticky tongue flicked out and sucked him into the Dragon's mouth. Several more under priests were sacrificed this way until someone understood.
"Your tribute?"
The dragon rolled his eyes. He was full now and it took less to anger him. "Yes, my tribute. From my villages. Where is it? Why is it late."
The priest knew he wasn't getting out of this alive, and gave up. "Oh, that gold. It isn't coming. Those villages have rebelled against you, or been raided. The story isn't clear. But what is clear is that they have no gold, and Challenging God-Emperor UncaVarn took it."
"WHAT!!?"
"He's running around the jungle with a small army of followers, stealing gold and dragging off the overly-stupid youngsters to fight for him. With how many villages he is hitting, you probably aren't getting any tribute for a week or two, until we can catch him."
"Why haven't you caught him yet?"
"Well, we did. Senior Priest Raging-Rhino rushed off with several hands of troops. Unfortunately, he was successful and found UncaVarn's encampment. He underestimated the Challenger's cunning and raced into an ambush and was wiped out. I think someone is trying to put together another force to pursue UncaVarn, but almost all troops are at the jungles edge, ready to conquer the human outpost."
Arthramax remembered a few details about this. He really didn't care about anything but his gold, but conquering humans had seemed like a good idea at the time. "Well, tell them to turn around and march back. I don't care about the humans right now, we'll kill them later. I want all troops to be used to catch this so-called challenger. Kill his followers, smash the villages until they love me again, and drag UncaVarn here in chains."
"It will be so, or great God Emperor Arthramax. Who shall command the forces?"
"I don't care. You all look alike. You do it. Get started immediately and use all of my soldiers. Your new name is Vengeful Pursuer of Thieves. Now get to work. I expect to see some tribute raining down upon me tomorrow!"
Not quite sure why he was alive, Vengeful Pursuer of Thieves backed out of the room, and began ranting at any Senior Priest he could find. They had heard the conversation and instantly were making plans to undermine the new favorite of the God-Emperor while making sure it didn't look like their fault.
"Send runners to the front lines! All troops will return immediately. Our scouts will scour the jungle from the air for the challenger and our troops destroy him! Send all successful or near-successful generals to me for assignments. And find me some of those little candied fishes. I need proper snacks to help me use my leadership abilities to their utmost."
Vengeful Pursuer had a sudden thought, that might preserve his life past tomorrow. He grabbed two under priests and glared at them. "Scour the lesser pyramids and bring all of the shiny metal you find. We must make an offering to our God-Emperor lest he becomes wrathful. I care not where you find the gold. Get enough for a double week's offerings. You are hear by promoted to full priests. I rename you Gold Gatherer and Treasure Pockets."
The under priests left quickly. They needed to steal new robes and large loot bags to carry the heavy tribute. Where they would get it, they hadn't a clue.
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The Imperial Court of Emperor Gustavus had begun at dawn. Tired courtiers who simply had to attend to make sure they were seen strove and failed to look their best. Nobles there with agendas were jittery from all night planning sessions where they tried to iron out their differences to present a united front and convince the Emperor of the wisdom of doing things their way. There was much to do, and little time to do it. Winter was pushing hard along a broad front Wolfsburg stood in there way, controlling the main pass to the heart of the Empire, and a siege of the city looked inevitable. Something needed to be done, and quickly.
And yet, the Emperor didn't expect to accomplish much today. The nobles and even the people he could normally count on to hammer out solutions were arguing about different courses of action. He understood why. With not one, but three different armies on the march, the Empire was threatened from three different directions, and this divided the nobility along geographic lines. There were only so many warm bodies to throw at each enemy force and every noble was demanding that he do something to preserve their lands.
Gus didn't have to wonder long who would demand to speak first. A cluster of Barons were putting something together and deciding who would be their catspaw of the day. Their lands lay just beyond Wolfsburg in the wide plains between the Capital and the Northern Ducal city. All were heavily invested in agriculture and cattle herding. Gus had a small bet with Porthos on who their spokesperson would be today. The Emperor had his money on Bareness Barclay, an older women famous for her dairy farms and strong opinions. Her age gave her an air of wisdom, and her straight talk, though often wrong, sounded good to the ears of many.
But old Porthos won the bet as Baronet Brownridge strode to the speaker's circle to be recognized. He'd explained his reasoning. "Barclay can barely think straight before her third cup of tea, and while she has trouble picking a winner, is adept at avoiding a loss." Gus had to admit that right now, there didn't look to be many winners unless you bet on the Orcs, Winter, or the Lizardmen. But rather than feeling hopeless, his spirits rose each day. The nobility of the Empire had grown complacent and fat and forgotten how the world worked. In the darkest of times, heroes appeared, often those who seemed least likely to turn the tide. While pressed on all fronts, they were far from defeated. If he could just convince people to come together, they had a chance. Not that Brownridge's opening statement would admit that.
"It seems obvious what we must do. We can't beat winter, but we can appease them. Give them what they want and negotiate a peace treaty. There is no word from Northguard, and it is most likely that Baron Pinchpenny has surrendered or been slain. Winter owns the North and only Gadobhra and Rowan Keep hold out. Let them have those blighted lands where nothing will grow under a layer of snow and ice. Winter will use the land to graze their giant aurochs, and grow Winter Wheat to feed their people. We lose nothing they don't hold now, and end the threat of Gadobhra."
There were more cheers than Gus would have expected. That troubled him. "And how does it end the threat of Gadobhra? If we abandon Baron William and his people, what do you think he will do? We turn Gadobhra into a threat that doesn't exist now."
Brownridge seemed happy to answer, "A simple solution. The Legion garrison in Rowan Keep is a sufficient force to take Gadobhra, destroy the teleport stone there, and any infrastructure Baron William has built. Order the evacuation of Sedgewick and the lands around it for their safety and send them south by teleporter. There's no reason to lose hardy peasants. Rowan Keep is the bargaining chip that will gain us an agreement with Winter and guarantee the Empire survives. The troops can be sent to the south to fight the lizardmen and the orcs."
Gus's belly growled, reminding him that he'd had breakfast at four in the morning and it was time for second breakfasts. He looked at Brownridge and said, "And what will the army eat?"
The younger man looked confused, "Why, what they eat now. Food raised by the nobles and supplied to the Legions."
"Hmmm, but you haven't been supplying much, have you? Prices are up. People are worried and hoarding. Your own family has only shipped half of the meat and hides ordered by the Legion. I've had to reluctantly increase my orders with Baron William. The City of Butchers is sending wagonloads of sausage and smoked meat daily, along with hardtack bread, groats, and casks of vegetables."
"But, you're paying Baron William in the gold we could be using to hire dwarven mercenary companies?"
Gus looked at the Imperial Exchequer, "What have we paid Baron William of Gadobhra this last month for those wagon trains that headed to the Northern Army?"
"Nothing, sire. I only have a notation to keep track of Baron William's contribution to the war effort and you will give him a tax credit in the future."
The Emperor looked at the assembled Baron's, "What say you? Can I count on you to support the Empire if we sacrifice Gadobhra? Send every last bit of food we need to the Legion, for a tax credit in years to come? That would certainly help."
The nobles grunted and no one seemed in favor of the plan. Most of them had managed to hardly pay any taxes, officially, bribes being so much more efficient. The Emperor surveyed the room, then spoke. "That plan is based on false hopes and greed. Winter will not honor any agreement we make. The threat you fear coming from Gadobhra will be made real. And we betray our own people to slavery or a cold death. Rowan and Gadobhra are a threat against Winter, and Winter is finding that fortress a very tough nut to crack, indeed. Only two days ago, a contingent of Beastmasters sent ten-thousand wargs and a hundred monstrous Snarlfangs to assault Rowan Keep. The attack was repulsed with few casualties, killing thousands of wolves."
This was new to almost everyone, a victory of sorts. Baron Macreadity stepped to the speaker's circle, not waiting to be recognized. "And what of Sedgewick? Surely th farms of the Barony and the small village were wiped out. If we had brought those people south already, their lives would have been saved."
The Emperor noticed Porthos at the entrance with another man, a hand raised to get his attention. Captain Darman stood behind them. Gus waved them forward. "A fair question, and hopefully I have an answer for your from an eyewitness."
The two old men walked forward, but stopped at the buffet. Diego wrapped a sausage in two pancakes and munched as they slowly walked forward and bowed. Diego seemed relaxed and unfazed to be standing in front of the Emperor and the assembled nobles, dressed in a worn grey robe and sandals, with his breakfast in one hand. "Greetings, I have messages from the Mayor of Sedgewick and the Baron of Gadobhra."
Gus nodded to him. "I'm sure you know which parts may be heard by all and which are for my eyes only. Proceed."
"Certainly. First off, the Mayor of Sedgewick is happy to report few casualties in the surrounding farms. The wolves were focused on destroying Sedgewick and attacked in mass. The Baron and Baroness chose to take their forces and the Legion's soldiers and defend the hamlets." He paused. "She is happy to report that no wolf or Snarlfang is left alive from the invading force, and they are turning the wolves into sausages."
Gus laughed, "I want to try some."
"I thought as much, so I brought some. Your food tasters are going over them and we can have them for lunch."
"Excellent, but...how did they kill the wolves?"
Diego pitched his voice to carry to all corners, "Sedgewick has many allies. I witnessed Lords of the Fae riding to the rescue, pennants flying, scattering wolves before them. Master Caldrius and his new apprentices unleashed sheets of hellfire upon the hordes of wolves. More died on the enchanted thorns that protect the town, a gift of the Fae. A hundred adventurers, lead by the Order of Heracles competed to see who could slay the most wolves. And lastly, there was the Butcher's brigade. Any of the monsters that entered the city were destroyed by their cleavers and the bodies sent to the grinder."
"A village of heroes."
Diego nodded, "Exactly. Forged in the dungeons and slaughterhouses of Gadobhra. The town is scarred, but victorious. Baron William has ambitious plans for more defenses. Winter will not have an easy time if they return. And, I'm happy to say that the climate has improved. A defeat for Winter drives back their magic. There will be no pause in the supplies sent to your armies from the town. I believe Baron William is going to double the amount he sends, actually."
Brownridge exclaimed, "The man is mad!"
Gus shook his head, "I don't think so. But he does hate paying taxes. I welcome his support. Hopefully others will be able to offer more as well. This is a hard time, but also a time of opportunity for those that show their loyalty to the Empire, and not just their own lands."
Diego said, "There is more."
The Emperor waved for him to continue. "More is good, in this case. Let's hear it."
"It is. A small force from Sedgewick and the surrounding areas has gone to harass the rear of the Winter army lead by Benjamin Franklin and the Champion of Sedgewick. Most details must be kept secret, of course, lest we betray information to Winter spies."
"Oh, of course. You'll brief me on it at lunch. Anything else?"
"Why, yes. The Baron of Gadobhra has started the task of rebuilding Blackrock. Haste was made as the Lizardmen were massing a large army at the jungles edge. He has managed to use his forces to delay that army indefinitely and forced it to retreat. Again, operational secrecy prevents me from saying more."
The nobles began to all talk at once, many not believing what they had just heard. Gus let them go, knowing they needed to expend some energy as they tried to assimilate the new information. It ran against so many of their plans to once again have Baron William in the spotlight. They were interrupted by soldiers who were escorting a messenger into the throne room. Gus signaled for him to speak.
"News from the South, sire. The lizardmen have retreated into the jungles, disbanding and running into the jungles."
The Emperor held up a hand, the room quieted. "Thank you. Please help yourself to breakfast, you look famished. This changes things and buys us time. Darman, please send word to the Order of Paladins under Commander Towers to lead his forces through the pass and against the orcs. Send any reserves we've been holding back to Duchess Claudia, she will need them all. I want to talk to my military staff at noon. Until them, Diego, Porthos and I will be eating second breakfast and discussing the interesting details behind this news."
He stood, "And as for the rest of you. Enough arguing. Tell me how you can help, or leave my city and go back to your own lands. I will accept troops, supplies, gold, or anything else that will help us strike back. Court is adjourned."
Comments
PyromaniacPoett
Been rereading some and something came to mind milo must have at some point noticed that the people he met in Sedgwick are now in his care and that he has to help them on the outside as well
NameGame
I'm glad that we don't get renamed that easily. Someone might rename me something that starts with A and ends with sshole. Typos: "Surely th farms" th/the, or th' if you prefer an accent. "answer for your from" your/you. "The town is scarred, but victorious." Reminds me of the game Darkest Dungeon, with the unimitable narrator Wayne June, I can almost hear his voice saying that sentence. A moment of valor shines brightest against a backdrop of despair. Great chapter. It's interesting seeing the machinery of the empire working. Thanks!
