NOVEL FROG 58 - Under New Rule
Overcast skies heralded the dawn of a new age. Tonberg’s monolithic walls seemed larger than ever as Lieze and Drayya approached. Guards patrolled the city perimeter with purposeful paces and resolute expressions, shattering the cowardly image of Ricta’s last fortress against the Order and defiantly proving their sovereignty to all who would seek entry.
The highways which broke off from the city’s southern gate were more populated than ever. Labourers toiled away at fortifications and defences on the flatlands surrounding the gatehouses - shameless preparation for a war which had been boiling on the horizon for many years indeed. The activity unsettled Lieze. Alistair was clearly a more pragmatic and opportunistic leader than Ricta, who seemed very much content to sit back and await the Order’s eventual domination of the city.
“Don’t stare too much.” Drayya spoke from beside her, “The martial law instituted by Ricta has been relaxed, so making our way into the city shouldn’t be as much of a hassle as it was before.”
“Hm…” Lieze glanced over her shoulder as a wagon passed them by and trundled down the dirt path, “Caravaners will be pleased with that, but where will they go? There’s no guarantee the city will still be standing if they’re planning on a round trip to the Dwarven mountains.”
“Whether truthful or not, the very motion of dismissing Ricta’s draconian isolation has settled the hearts of the people.” Drayya answered, “They want to believe that a leader capable of making harsh decisions will be the one who will lead them out of the darkness.”
In times of strife, efforts are made to inspire nationalism. Alistair wished for the fervency of the Church of the Golden Dragon to be reinstated as the normal. His desire for a country returned to its pious roots would strike a chord in the hearts of many countrymen. They desired change, no matter where it originated from. As far as the people of Tonberg were concerned, anyone was better than Ricta.
Lieze came to a sudden stop as Drayya stepped in front of her. Beneath the hood of her cloak, the girl’s pale skin made her seem like a spirit. Lieze recoiled as Drayya’s hand came up to lift the slack of her hood and caress her cheek.
“...What do you think you’re doing?” She frowned to hide her surprise.
“The illusion’s still taking hold. That’s good.” Drayya muttered, “We can’t have the spell wearing off while we’re wandering through the streets, can we? You’re the most wanted woman in Tonberg right now. Just about every man, woman, and child knows your face.”
She couldn’t see it for herself, but Drayya had assured Lieze that her transmutation magic had quite literally masked the fresh problem of the girl’s recognisable appearance.
“Why don’t you tell me that before you start caressing me like a lover?” Lieze complained.
“If you think I’m being indecent, doesn’t that say more about you than it does about me?” Drayya replied.
“The affairs of love and courtship couldn’t interest me less.” She declared, “I detest intimacy, Drayya.”
“Now there’s something I would expect to hear from a daughter of Master Sokalar.” Drayya smirked, “Still - you’re quite beautiful, you know? If you’d like, we could stop by a dye shop and pick you up some makeup. You haven’t worn any in years.”
“We’re not children anymore, Drayya.”
“Oh, don’t let Master Sokalar’s scolding give you the wrong idea. That dye merchant we captured all those years ago didn’t have any use for those products anymore.” Drayya used the back of her hand to sweep back Lieze’s bangs, “Then again, I suppose we have better things to focus on. A shame. If it wasn’t for the size of your chest, you’d be in the running to dethrone my beauty.”
“Could we possibly get back to what we came here to do?” Lieze blinked.
“Ever dutiful, hm?” For a split second, something like disappointment crossed Drayya’s features, “...Yes. I suppose we aren’t children anymore, are we? Let’s get moving.”
The southern gatehouse was positively overflowing with guards. The sights of crossbows trained through the arrow slits above spoke of just how fiercely Alistair wished to protect the city from any infiltrators. Standing atop the mighty walls were arbalests who surveyed the far horizon with keen eyes, and manning the portcullis was a detachment of knights from the Order of Green Dragons - those who once swore so-called ‘infallible’ loyalty to the crown.
For once, Lieze wasn’t accosted by the guards as she and Drayya wandered under the gates, mixing in with the labourers ferrying wooden beams and tools from their workshops. The crack of distant lightning accompanied their entrance. A minute later, as they travelled the roads, the heavens opened up, and the streets were soon occupied only by those unbothered by the rain.
Lieze didn’t have fantastic memories of the eastern district. Though it was quite possibly the safest area in the entire city, it had been the catalyst of her overconfident diversion. If the bright idea of orchestrating an undead attack had never occurred to her, Ricta would most likely have still been occupying the throne. She cursed herself for inadvertently making her own life that much harder.
“Eh… hm…” Drayya looked the street up and down, squinting to find the unorganised numbering on each home, “...This one - 27. Was it 27? I’m almost certain it was.”
“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten.” Lieze said.
“No, no. I haven’t. It was 27.” She replied, only half-confident.
A patch of soil that could have barely been called a ‘garden’ was encircled by waist-high stone walls. Shades of crystal blue leapt out at Lieze from the garden’s edges as Drayya unhooked the latch of a rain-slick gate which croaked as it peeled open. The home - like most of those in the eastern district - was terraced and beginning to show its age. Drayya rapped on the door with her knuckles and awaited an answer.
A pleasant warmth blew out from the interior as someone arrived to open the door moments later. The timid girl who answered Drayya’s knock bore a striking resemblance to her, though their personalities couldn’t have been more opposed.
“It’s you two…” Alma muttered, darting her eyes from one end of the street to another before standing aside and beckoning her visitors in, “Please, come in. It must be cold out there…”
Lieze basked in the warmth upon following Drayya inside, only then realising just how cold the day was becoming. The quaint central hallway of Alma’s home befitted her quiet and sensible nature. The ticking of a clock accompanied the sounds of footsteps against the hardwood floor, but aside from that, there was nothing but quiet.
“...Hah.” Lieze broke the silence with a sigh, “At least one of us is living somewhere more hospitable than a breezy cave in the countryside.”
“Please come this way…” Alma approached a door next to the entrance, “I’m sorry if it’s a little messy…”
A foul smell escaped from the gap as she turned the knob and opened the door. To one such as Lieze, it was the most recognisable stench in the world - the unmistakable tinge of rotting flesh which lingered on every surface and refused to disappear. Juxtaposing the small living room’s homely appearance were the various ‘specimens’ arranged on a desk at the far wall. Small rodents, pigeons and other such pests laid lifeless with their limbs hammered to the wooden surface, guts thoroughly bared and plumbed for all to see.
Alma shifted her feet uncomfortably, “I’m sorry… I didn’t have any time to clean up.”
“Oh, the joys of having a complex ecosystem of small creatures to experiment on…” Drayya muttered, “Frogs, snakes and insects - they were all myself and Lieze had to enjoy in the Deadlands. Master Sokalar would never let us get too close to any fresh corpses.”
“You… you aren’t disgusted?” Alma wondered.
“These eyes have witnessed crimes of the flesh too pervasive to mention at far too early an age.” She replied, “Compared to the horrors I’ve witnessed, simple dissection is almost pleasing. A shame about the smell, however. Then again, I suppose you don’t have the liberty of wafting away the stench of death in the middle of a city…”
“Your dedication to necromancy is respectable, Alma.” Lieze spoke, “-But considering the current state of Tonberg, I think this might be more trouble than it’s worth.”
“Yes… I wasn’t planning on capturing any more specimens in the future.” The raven-haired girl agreed, “Thank you for dropping by at my request, Lieze. Are you feeling better after your injury?”
A gasp was caught in Alma’s throat as Lieze extended her thorny un-arm from beneath her cloak. She could feel the artificial nerves twisting and constricting beneath the root structure as she curled a few fingers and listened to the creaking of her new joints. She would have to be careful not to inadvertently expose it to anyone who would take offence to such a sight.
“Wh-” Alma blinked, “What is that…?”
“If I must be honest, I’m not entirely sure myself.” Lieze answered, “A favour from the Gods? A debt to be repaid? All that matters is that Helmach’s final act of defiance against us turned out to be a fool’s errand.”
The Blackbriar’s gift was an excellent opportunity to demonstrate Lieze’s providential right to lead the cult. Alma’s expression was a worrisome combination of awe and terror. She didn’t hesitate to allow her obsession with necromancy to creep through her otherwise shrinking exterior every once in a while.
“But enough about that.” Returning the arm to the safety of her cloak, Lieze redirected the conversation, “Drayya mentioned that you wished to speak with me.”
“Y-Yes…” Shaking her head, Alma scuttled over to a bookshelf hidden in a dark corner of the room, retrieving a yellowed sheet of parchment from between two enormous tomes before returning to Lieze’s side, “It’s about the forbidden grimoires. The ones the Church has been collecting and holding captive.”
“Ah, of course. I’d almost forgotten I told you to look into that.” Lieze recalled, “You’ve discovered something?”
“Yes.” Excitedly, Alma looked over the sheet, “Marché was kind enough to have a few of his companions follow up on some of my theories as to where the grimoires might be. I received this letter in the post just the other day.”
Lieze took the parchment as it was offered to her, scanning the messy handwriting.
To our associate,
It seems your theory is correct. An old friend of mine - a priest - confirmed that most grimoires and works penned by necromancers are being held in the Library of Uke, where most of the pre-reformation scriptures are archived. And don’t worry yourself about this exchange leaking out - we’ve already disposed of the contact in question.
“Unsigned. Good. At least they have some understanding of covertness.” Lieze thought, returning her gaze to Alma, “The Library of Uke…”
She nodded, “As mentioned in the letter, it’s an archive of texts from before the reformation. Considering the Church is now inseparable from the state, I think most of those texts will be making their way back into its dogma in the near future.”
“Excellent work. Those grimoires are valuable tools.” Lieze praised, “Now we only have to find a way of liberating them without compromising our entire operation…”
Drayya poked her head over her shoulder, “-I think I might have a few ideas about that.”
“Yes… I was hoping you might.” Lieze replied, “But whatever is it you have planned, it will have to wait. We still have some outstanding business to take care of in the city.”
“Are you leaving already?” Alma asked.
“We won’t take up any more of your time.” She answered, “I’d like for you to keep your ear to the ground while you’re laying low, Alma. There’s no telling what Alistair has planned.”
“Of course.” Alma bowed politely, “Are you going to meet with Baccharum?”
“Yes. I’m keen to hear his thoughts on all of this.” Lieze explained, “If the Church is returning to its roots, he’ll be more vulnerable than ever. That should allow us to demand his services with more freedom - especially if we can find a way to guarantee his safety in these tumultuous times.”