No_Creative_Name
patreon
AR Chapter 402 (Book 4 Epilogue)
🕑 Added 2025-06-03 03:35:34 +0000 UTC***
[Agnazzar POV]
“Ensure that the letter is sealed correctly for that one specifically. The Union can be persnickety about the presentation of the communications. The Otariid especially. Yes. That fold there, it’s—”
“The Sovereign of Western Reaches has been supplanted. It’ll be a new Overlord instead of a Chieftain. Reports of which Overlord was truly in charge and will ascend to Sovereignty have varied, and there will be a war there before—”
“The Inkulu have sent word confirming the passage of keelish, as other reports from the Indlovu have stated. The Enkulu have given conflicting information, but so too have all of them. The Inkulu’s confirmation is enough to have a certainty that the keelish pilgrims—”
“There’s no further information about the continued movements in the Misti Hawar territories. The single report we received has been conditionally termed as valid, but there is still a need—”
Agnazzar, the ninth of the Ferrah line of City Lords of Harandal, found himself relaxing as he walked through the many rooms of his office. The 43 secretaries he kept permanently employed were working as tirelessly as ever, their lives devoted to keeping Harandal existing for as long as it had thus far. Though he was a Sovereign in name, Harandal lacked both the military might to be the seat of an Overlord as well as the domestic and monetary pull of a Chieftain. As such, the way that the Ferrah family had found themselves able to hold on to the city’s leadership for hundreds of years was through infrastructure and information. The two ‘i’s that they kept peeled and watching for danger.
“Good morning, City Lord. You’ve returned earlier than expected.” Valis, his head steward, offered a cup of steeped coca leaves as Agnazzar pulled off his coat and hung it on the rack. The wood flared with an inscription as the surprisingly heavy clothing settled onto it.
“Thank you. And yes. The news on the front of the Southern Sovereigns is, unfortunately, as we expected. They do not care for whatever it is that cooperation has to offer. Both Overlords are rallying troops and demand that we open Harandal’s gates to them to recruit further.”
“Yes, Lord.”
“Yes, I did tell them that the gates were already open to them. The Overlords are too shortsighted, and the damned Chieftains are too passive! Hlugdtieg is happy to let them gather, he’s convinced that Gantarl won’t use violence against his own people. I don’t know where he gets this confidence. It’s…” Agnazzar trailed off, sipping from the steaming tea. “It’s pure foolishness.”
“Yes, Lord.”
“I’ve heard that the war on the Western Reaches has reached the end of its first stage?”
“Yes, Lord.”
“What is your understanding of the positions of the surviving Overlords?” Agnazzar asked Valis. The man had served as assistant steward while Anazzar’s mother had remained as City Lord, and his input was worth more than anyone else’s.
“Though the Urlna clan’s leader has been killed, they are far from cowed. In fact, they seem to be rather sure that they’ll change entirely from following a Chieftain to marching under an Overlord’s banner. It’s not yet sure, but I would stake my position on their return to baser instinct. Surprisingly, though, there are none of the Urlna that wish to ascend to Sovereignty themselves, so, humorously enough—”
“The Overlords are being forced to politick?” Agnazzar laughed. “I almost wish the winner ended up accepting the way of the Chieftain.”
“Yes, Lord.”
“But they won’t.”
“No, Lord.”
Agnazzar took another, longer sip of his tea. The hot liquid sat comfortably in his stomach as he let out a sigh.
“Ok. I’m hearing movement on the south of the continent? I haven’t gotten up to date on that keelish report. I’m hearing that it’s been confirmed by multiple sources?”
“Yes, Lord. The Inkulu seem to be deliberately putting on an act of civility towards them.”
“And you suspect this comes from their generally duplicitous manner?”
“Yes, Lord.”
“How is it that the sole tribe of Indlovu that skirts the lines around truth and fiction is also the one that has the most power of all the damned people?”
Valis didn’t respond, and Agnazzar sighed. “Yes, it is because of their near-lies and misdirection that they’ve become what they are now. I know. It just irks me that a people, wholly consumed with honesty and fair dealing, refuse to see their strongest tribe for what it is.”
“Yes, Lord.”
“So, the keelish do exist. Do we have any tentative reports on their total number or goals?”
“To settle the Shandise, Lord. Reports vary from just a couple hundred to several thousand.”
“And your belief is?”
“I would err on the side of caution, Lord. Even so, I would be hard pressed to believe there were more than one thousand able to keep themselves moving without devouring each other.”
“I’ll cede to your wisdom in this, then.” Agnazzar stepped into his personal office, dozens of papers prepared for his return and waiting for his approval. He settled into his chair and gestured for his steward to do the same. Valis didn’t, instead standing beside the City Lord’s desk, ready to present each paper and its general points that needed addressing to Agnazzar. “Is there anything to do with the keelish that needs our attention?”
“No, Lord.”
“Great. There’d been some measure of fear regarding the movements of the Veratocracy before I left. I’m assuming one of these reports has information regarding the specifics of what our heretical cousins are doing?”
“Yes, Lord.” Valis pointed at one of the stacks of paper.
“Tell me what you consider to be the most important parts of this,” Agnazzar commanded as he flicked through the documents, “and I’ll read through it in detail over my meal.”
“Yes, Lord. In short, the Gran Verat has been reported to be moving. Not only are his devoted talking about it, the few visitors that have been permitted passage into the peaks have reported continually increasing signs of movement. I consider the idea, as a whole, to be credible, though the old monster’s pace and timeline have never suited us.”
“True.” Agnazzar groaned. “Do you think they’re going to try another continental takeover? It’s been… a century?”
“107 years, to be exact, Lord.”
“Might be about time for them to think they’ve gathered enough numbers and strength to overcome the rest of us.” He mused. “But I doubt that’s the case. You?”
“I do not believe that the Gran Verat is looking for continental conquest. Instead, I believe that his focus will be on one of the key interests that the Veratocracy has held interest in. Perhaps the subjugation of the Shakran. The passage of the keelish seems to have inflamed the heretics’ sense of pride. They’ll look to strike at the Wilds in response, since the keelish are mere beasts and beyond their immediate reach.”
“That might be the case…” Agnazzar tapped his fingers on the desk. “It feels… infantile, though. They’re throwing a fit and bringing out their damned demigod to deal with a couple hundred Moonchildren holding on around an unimportant spring? It doesn’t make sense. But, then again, I can’t see many other reasons for him to get off his lazy ass. The Union’s been quiet, we’ve stayed entirely within our borders, except for trading. The Indlovu and Misti Hawar have stayed in their lanes as well. So, it has to be something to do with the Wilds.”
“Damned Gran Verat.” Agnazzar cursed the terror lurking in the night. Was that a possibility afforded to people who hadn’t cast off their gods? Perhaps. But then, their magic couldn’t be engaged in inscriptions, so there was a give and a take.
“Damned Gran Verat, Lord.” Valis agreed.
“Now, what was this that I heard about the Misti Hawar going on the warpath?”
A/N: Whew! there we go. Hope you enjoyed!
Comments
YellowChief419
The thick plottens
