Have the Black Dogs truly betrayed us?" Celestine asked, her heart sinking.
"I'm afraid so," Claudia said, frowning.
"T-that can't be..." Maia tried to deny, despite the reports being in her face. "It- it can't..."
"Those curs!" Alicia yelled. "How dare they!"
"And just when another rebellion rose up too," Kaguya noted. "This couldn't have come at a worse possible time."
"You're referring to the Grey Falcons, I take it?" Claudia asked.
"I am," Kaguya answered. "They've seized territory not far from the Black Citadel, and are now using that territory as their headquarters. What they want, they haven't made clear just yet."
"Curious, but we need to be focusing on the far more imminent threat first," Claudia said.
"...I do not share your opinion on which is the bigger threat," Kaguya replied, "but very well. We can be reasonably sure that the Black Dogs have some form of support in Eostia's nobility. I doubt they would have felt comfortable enough to launch such a rebellion without support."
"Finding such traitors, especially at a time where we might regrettably need their support," Claudia noted, "will be incredibly difficult."
"Form up," I said, looking to my soldiers.
My name is Arlan Grey. My family, at least in this life, were a leader in this community. And apparently I was born a Memory Mage. We're not exactly common, and I doubt many people even truly understand the practice. Hell, I didn't, until I used my own magic on myself in a drunken stupor after a bad day. Reincarnation can really, truly suck depending on what world you're in. Kuroinu, the world I happen to have found myself in, for example, is a world that is basically "Every hentai bad end ever" compiled into one, for whatever sadistic reason. I say, Fuck. That.
"Sir, the Black Dogs are moving exactly as you predicted," my assistant said.
"Of course they are," I said.
And a lot of the pain and suffering can be laid at the feet of the Black Dog Mercenaries. Fortunately, I've had ages to prepare for this day, and for what I'm about to do. I'm no fool. The Black Dogs, however much I might hate them, have a bloody point in some regards. This war between Eostia and the Dark Elves has been going on for who knows how long. I've honestly forgotten, but apparently, it's been going on since my grandparents were babies. That's far, far too long for a war, if I'm being honest.
"How are our mage troops?" I asked.
"Prepared as they're ever going to be," she noted. "We're ready for whenever you say the word."
I've been meticulously preparing for this day. The Black Dogs were an effective enough force to end a war that was going on for centuries. I can't do things by half if I'm going to take them out before the real nastiness can begin. First thing's first, scouting information of their stronghold. They've likely started paying attention to the few gaps in the Black Citadel's defenses, considering that's how they broke into the place to begin with.
"Are you sure about this, boss?" one of my men asked. "We're going to be fighting a two-pronged war with both the Black Dogs and the Seven Shields Alliance if we go this route."
"I'm sure," I replied. "It will be hard, I never said it would be easy, but we all agree that overthrowing both is necessary."
The Seven Shields Alliance can best be summed up as incompetent. Them and the Dark Elf Nation, in all real honesty. How you manage to keep a war going for centuries, and not have some level of incompetence, is beyond me. That a mercenary band like the Black Dogs can take over a single, fortified citadel, and somehow become the biggest threat around, speaks volumes on this.
"Men, I will not lie," I began. "The road ahead will likely be long. It will be hard. We will be facing people we once considered allies and friends, and many of you likely still do. But the way this nation will continue if either the Seven Shields or the Black Dogs hold the reins is abhorrent. We cannot abide the passivity that the Seven Shields represents. We cannot abide the debauchery that the Black Dogs represent. We cannot let either continue to lead. The Seven Shields led us into a centuries-long conflict, and look what that brought us? The Black Dogs. Now, we fight back. Now, we assert ourselves. Now, we fight for what we believe in. Come hell or high water, we will not allow the Black Dogs to defile our home and our people. Come hell or high water, we will not allow the Seven Shields to hold power. Men! March on the Black Citadel. It's time to show the Black Dogs that they aren't the biggest threat around anymore!"
"What the hell is happening?!" Vault shouted, as he received a report from one of his men.
"Armed forces are attacking, sir," the man said. "And they're putting up one hell of a fight. We can't repel them from the gate."
"I can see that, you fool," Vault shouted. "I want to know how they could have gotten as far as they did without us noticing!"
"None of us know!" the man replied. "It's like they've been waiting all this time for us to take the Citadel!"
Vault paused at that. He wasn't the leader of the Black Dogs for nothing, after all. And as he thought about it, the man might have had a point. The timing of this attack was just too perfect. They are only taking stock of what they've managed to acquire, and are busy marshalling their forces for attacks all throughout Eostia. Attacking them now, when they're still preparing, is catching them off-guard. There are two theories as to why this is happening: either there's a traitor, or the attackers knew exactly how all of this would play out.
"Are they working with the Seven Shields?" Vault asked.
"No, sir," his man replied. "I recognize their flag as belonging to the Grey Falcons."
Vault cursed at that. The Grey Falcons? That was a group whose motivations Vault could never quite pin down. It was clear they were a force to be reckoned with. The group started out as a sort of peasant militia, if he recalled correctly, but eventually grew into an army. One that he was careful to keep the full details of from the Seven Shields, as he noticed they didn't really like them all that much. Now that act of his is biting him in the ass, hard. He had hoped that they would be willing to work with him. But, evidently, that was never going to be in the cards.
"Reinforce the gates!" Vault shouted. "And order our reserves to ready themselves. We might be recovering, but we're still the Black Dogs, and we won't let an upstart group show us up!"
He only hoped this nagging feeling in the back of his head wasn't a warning of something.
Spoiler: Author's NotesLast edited: Sunday at 10:14 PM Like ReplyReport Reactions:Lichzim, DystopianFjord, CrazyGuy and 336 othersGontxvenSunday at 10:13 PMAdd bookmarkView discussionThreadmarks Chapter 2 View contentGontxvenI honestly have no idea what I'm doing at all.Sunday at 10:23 PMAdd bookmark#4Part of the reason my group, the Grey Falcons, managed to amass such a large force so quickly is because of who we look for when recruiting: Everyone. So long as you follow proper procedures and protocol, we don't care what race you are or where you're from. We do, of course, have standards. Anyone caught behaving like the Black Dogs is made an example of. The pikes lining our main headquarters can attest to that. We've got people from all over, who are sick and tired of how long this conflict has gone on, and want it to end, but can't stand any side of the conflict either.
It's led to quite a surge in recruitment. I'm not entirely sure how we've gone unnoticed, I suspect Vault likely had something to do with it, but I'm not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Our first order of business, after properly establishing ourselves as a unit, was weaponry. Modern guns and ammunition aren't feasible with current technology, but that doesn't mean firearms in general aren't. We've managed to secure some basic pistols and rifles, and while we have enough to outfit a couple squads with them, there aren't nearly enough for our whole group. Our mages have been trained to supplement our gunmen, which has proven to work wonders when our headquarters was assaulted.
We've managed to recreate some artillery that, when used in conjunction with magic, completely shreds the best fortifications Eostia currently has on offer. I was rather surprised at the initial result. I just gave our engineers a basic rundown of how it was supposed to work, and the halflings did their magic, and here we are. ...Their fascination with the artillery is partly the reason why we're unable to produce more firearms than we have. I'm not going to complain about the end results, however, especially since they're proving their worth against the Black Citadel.
"Sir, it's as you said would happen," one of my men said, observing from his spyglass, "seems like a large number of the Black Dogs are fleeing."
"Leave the sick and injured alone," I said. "Killing them does us no favors if we're going to upend Eostia's government. Kill the rest. They would easily do the same, if not worse, to us after all."
"Sir, yes sir!" he said, barking orders to the men beneath him.
And yes, I have thought about the Government that will have to be present after this conflict ends, if we're going to quell any further unrest. Obviously, despite my leadership of the Grey Falcons, I want no part in whatever messed up Noble idiocy that this world has. But neither will I shy away from it, if it becomes necessary. Hope to whatever's around that I'm not in the Manga timeline for this nonsense. Seriously, the corruption in that version of Eostia ran into even the Seven Shields themselves. Prim, in that timeline, had, shall we say, more than sisterly feelings for Alicia. Enough so that she willingly joins the Black Dogs in that timeline, and rapes Alicia. If I'm not in that timeline, I'll consider Prim redeemable. If I am, then she isn't.
I believe that, out of the current Seven Shields, Kaguya is the one I'm able to see negotiating with, or parleying with, at some point. Claudia just has too much faith in Celestine for my taste. Maia would likely only see red when I finally put the Black Dogs down for good. She was with them at some point, but left for reasons I can't recall. I also don't really care enough to use my magic to recall those reasons. Luu-Luu might be able to, but I know I'm not the only one who has trouble reconciling the fact that most Halflings look like kids with the fact that some of them are adults. And the less said about Prim right now, the better.
"Sir, some of our cannons are out of comission," one of my men reported. "A few catapults got lucky and took them out."
"Irritating, but expected," I replied. "Shuffle in the low-power variants. We're not looking to destroy the Citadel entirely, after all."
"Sir!" the man saluted, before going to relay my orders.
Hm... I wonder what Vault is thinking right now? His Orcs were the first to taste the artillery fire, and became large splatters of blood for their trouble, if the artillery shells didn't explode on impact that is. As powerful as they are, they can't really stop cannon or artillery fire without significant trouble. Taking a look through my own spyglass, I note that it looks like we've broken through the last layers of defense around the gate. All that's left is for an assassin or scout to throw open the gates so we can get busy. I believe one of my men managed to infiltrate the Black Dogs not long ago. Hopefully he remembered his orders and got that sceptre to Olga without much trouble. Having someone causing chaos on the inside while we're fighting on the outside is bound to be helpful.
"Now, let's see how you respond, Vault..." I said to myself.
If there wasn't one problem, it was another, Vault begrudgingly had to admit. Someone, for some stupid reason, decided it was a good idea to hand that sceptre back to Olga, and let her have fun. He rightly got beheaded for his trouble, but that doesn't change the fact that he has to deal with that while also fending off someone from outside. He honestly suspected that the man who handed that sceptre back to Olga was a plant by the Grey Falcons, but regardless, now his forces are dealing with a powerful archmage and an invading force from the outside. Caught in a pincer. ...Yeah, no, that man was definitely a plant. This was too perfect.
"FUCK!" Vault swore. "Damnit, we fell for it."
"Sir?" one of his men asked.
"I'll spell it out for you, nice and simple," Vault said. "While we were dealing with the outside invaders, a traitor amongst our ranks gave Olga that sceptre, and now we're caught in the middle."
"We still have the teleportation circle for our forces," Kim pointed out.
"That we do," Vault said. "So we will survive, but we'll be crippled without the Black Citadel. Damnit, well played, Grey Falcons, well played."
Spoiler: Author's Notes Like ReplyReport Reactions:gartf, JohnWolfie34, dragonborn and 319 othersGontxvenSunday at 10:23 PMAdd bookmarkView discussionThreadmarks Chapter 3 View contentGontxvenI honestly have no idea what I'm doing at all.Sunday at 10:31 PMAdd bookmark#6After doing enough damage to the Front Gate of the citadel, we were able to march in easily enough. Heavy resistance along the way, obviously, but nothing my men couldn't handle. Alas, I do not know what the internal structure of this place is like, so I'm having my men go all throughout the place, carefully routing out every Black Dog they could find. It wasn't easy, as there were numerous passageways that were hidden, while others were barricaded. Hastily, but still barricaded all the same. Doesn't help that some of the barricades have Orc corpses reinforcing them. Disgusting to look at, but remarkably effective as a deterrent. I can hear some shouting from where I'm currently at, a mix of female and male voices, and think to myself. Am I near where they keep the women they capture? Possible, but it's too high up for that. You'd think with the unimportant women, they'd have them kept in some dank dungeon or something. No, if my guess is right...
I don't have much time to think about that before I can see some fire coming from a passageway further ahead. I was right. Olga's nearby. I might be a mage myself, but I pale in comparison to her in a straight fight. And she likely won't be friendly towards any human, so I decide to find a different passageway. And good thing, too. I can smell some reagents and whatnot. I'm close to either an alchemist's workshop, or that of the Black Dog's mage, Kim. I take a look at my pistol. It holds enough powder for a single shot, and will need some time to reload. If I use it, I'll have to make my shot count.
Moving forward, I take a look at the room I smelled those reagents from, and my heart sinks. Whoever's lab this was, was a real piece of work. Disembodied limbs are strewn about on the opposite wall, some with bones jutting out of them, as if they were ripped out rather than cut off. I can definitely smell something here, mostly some form of disinfectant or scent removal. Not surprising, considering the body parts. There are a few notebooks here, and while I'm tempted to burn them, I make the decision to take them. Call me stupid for this, if you must, but having this on hand will make my plans for the future easier, if nothing else.
I also note the plans listed in a scroll: apparently, there was a teleportation circle here that the Black Dogs discovered very recently. One that would allow them to teleport to anywhere else marked with similar patterns. Erring on the side of caution, I would guess they were smart enough to change the patterns on this teleportation circle, and inscribe new patterns in the circle. If I were them, I would then make another one in my actual headquarters, if only as a backup. I curse to myself: they're planning to leave. And they have the means to do so in a way that leaves as few casualties as possible. I would normally wonder why such a scroll was left out in the open, but considering how off the main path this room is, as well as how sudden our attack was, it's no real surprise. Whoever had this scroll likely thought it would be relatively secure here.
I can hear more shouting, and it sounds like Olga's chasing the Black Dogs that were sent to retrieve her Sceptre. Good, hopefully she causes more chaos amongst their ranks while my men continue the sweep. Our regroup point is in the main hall, and I have a small unit there to guard it. I begin heading back there, and notice something in a tower on the opposite side of the citadel. A light seems to be emerging from what appears to be the bottom, and I curse again. If I was a betting man, my money would be on that being the area where the teleportation circle is, and that Vault and some of his men just took it.
Before I can descend further down the stairs, a knife just whizzes past my head. Reacting instinctively, I pull out my shortsword and parry a blow that was coming for me. If I recall correctly this is Chloe, Olga's servant or advisor or whatnot. I really don't care at this point. She's a damn fine fighter, if nothing else. I'm definitely on the defensive here, considering she's above me and could easily push me downwards if I wasn't braced against the wall.
"Damn humans!" Chloe shouts, attempting to push me down.
"I'm not entirely sure what was done to you, but for what it's worth, I apologize," I say, before kicking her legs, forcing her to lose her balance.
"AGH—" is her response, as she almost begins tumbling down the steps.
I manage to catch her by her collar before she does, and use the opportunity to administer a sedative my own alchemists developed. Olga will be far more cooperative if we have her as a hostage, as much as the idea infuriates me. I hate hostage taking, but in war, you use what tools you have available. So long as the tools aren't completely abhorrent, fair game. Chloe and Olga will be written down as prisoners of war.
I throw her over my shoulder, and begin carrying her down the steps. I begin thinking about my next move. After I cement my control over the citadel, I'll have to begin marching immediately on the nearest Seven Shields stronghold, before they can rally their forces in time. If I can do that, I would have enough of a buffer to begin planning proper invasions elsewhere. The fire from upstairs is certainly getting closer, so I move faster before Olga can do something reckless.
"Men," I say, approaching the guards I left at our regroup point. "Ensure this one is brought to a secure room, and is unharmed. We will need her as such if we are to negotiate with Olga later."
"Sir!" one of them answers, carrying Chloe away to another room.
"Now, how is the sweep of the citadel progressing?" I ask.
"It's going at a slow pace, sir," one of them answers. "They managed to barricade more of the passageways than we thought, and it's been slow going removing them."
"Annoying, but something we should have expected," I reply. "How many women were you able to save?"
"Regrettably, not many," the man says, shaking his head. "Black Dogs did a number on them. Some of them were already broken by the time we found them. The best we could give those women was a mercy killing."
"Sad, but perhaps unavoidable," I reply. "Curse those Black Dogs to hell."
"Sir," a Dark Elf soldier replies. "We managed to locate a cache of what we believe are intelligence documents."
"Anything useful?" I ask.
"We're looking into it now, sir," the Dark Elf replies.
"Good," I say. "Did any of you happen to notice the light from one of those towers?"
"Yes, sir," one of the men replies. "We saw a large number of Black Dogs headed to the tower, and attempted to give chase, but some Orcs blocked the hall before we could get close."
"Damn it," I said. "That tower likely holds a teleportation circle. Capture the tower. We need to see if my theory is true, and if so, where the Black Dogs went."
"Sir!" a couple men replied, before going to an adjacent hall.
As fast as this attack was, I guess it was too much to expect to get ahold of Vault himself just yet. Fortunately, we've managed to deal a crippling blow to the Black Dogs. Their only forces are likely the ones that weren't part of this attack and whatever remnants managed to escape. I'll track them down and eliminate them yet.
Spoiler: Author's Notes Like ReplyReport Reactions:DystopianFjord, gartf, JohnWolfie34 and 297 othersGontxvenSunday at 10:31 PMAdd bookmarkView discussionThreadmarks Chapter 4 View contentGontxvenI honestly have no idea what I'm doing at all.Sunday at 10:39 PMAdd bookmark#7It honestly surprises me, each and every time, when I see how some of the women here dress in-person. I mean, I know I'm currently in a hentai setting, but it's still surprising. Olga is... demonstrably furious, but maintaining a level of calm I wouldn't expect, considering her situation.
"Here's how it's going to play out, Olga," I tell her, in a tone that shows I mean business. "You're going to walk into that bedroom with this collar on. That's it. And I will guarantee Chloe's safety."
"How do I know you won't try your luck the way the Black Dogs did?" Olga asks.
"An honest enough inquiry," I say. "And to be frank, there's no real way I could guarantee that. But look at my soldiers, and tell me with a straight face they'd let me get away with such an act."
"You could have just as easily taken control of them," Olga remarks. "You're a Memory Mage, after all. You could have easily messed with their heads."
"Olga," I reply. "I'm in my early 30s. To properly manipulate the memories of each and every female soldier serving under me would take a catastrophic amount of effort on its own. And you know as well as I do that the time requirements for such spellwork make such a feat impossible with the amount of time I've lived."
"You could just as easily be bluffing about your age," Olga says.
"You're really grasping at straws now, huh?" I remark. "I could. I could. But what benefit would that give me? Possible rape of a woman I have no real interest in? Really?"
"What was that?" Olga said.
"You heard me," I reply. "I have no attraction to you. I do not want to sleep with you. You, and what your monsters have done, sicken me. By and large, I would LOVE to just execute you here. Would make my life a hell of a lot easier. And yet, here I am, negotiating with you to put a collar on and get in the bedroom."
Olga seems taken aback at my tone. I can practically see the gears turning in her head right now. I meant every word I said. For as much as I can understand Olga's motives, it doesn't change the fact that her monsters rape, pillage, and burn pretty much wherever they go. I've seen wounded men and women pass through the town I live in, sharing horror stories of what they've done. I've seen good people attempt to take their own lives because they couldn't bear the pain anymore. And Olga here, and her monsters, were the cause of it. Sympathetic motivations or no, it does NOT change the fact that her actions had lasting consequences.
A few of my riflemen then point their rifles at her, and I can see her expression change. She looked to the scorch marks on the walls, along with some bullet holes, and back to the riflemen. She did this quite a few times, as if assessing whether or not she would be able to incinerate me before one of my men was able to shoot her dead.
"....Very well," Olga said, putting the collar on and walking into the bedroom.
Glad that was taken care of before I lost my cool. I would not have been able to hold myself back from attempting to strangle or otherwise kill Olga for much longer.
To all cities under the control of the Seven Shields, my name is Arlan Grey. You will know me as the leader of the Grey Falcons. I make my announcement of intent now. We, the Grey Falcons, have long been dissatisfied with the war between Celestine and Olga Discordia. We were further angered by the actions of the Black Dogs—seeking to turn Eostia into a nation of rape, where every man could just walk into a bar, pick out a woman, and rape her then and there to the cheers of the other men present. We could not abide this, and we could no longer abide the ignorance and corruption of the Eostian government.
So now, we announce our intent. We will overthrow the Seven Shields Alliance. We will tear Eostia down, brick by brick, and build it up again. Brick. by. brick. You can either surrender now, or be crushed underfoot. It makes little difference to me. As a show of force, we have taken the Black Citadel from the grasp of the Black Dogs. If we could assault a stronghold like that, your cities, as they stand now, do not stand a chance. You can run, corrupt nobility of Eostia, but you cannot hide from us. We will find you. We will purge you. To the Seven Shields Alliance leaders, you have long been seen as incompetent, and now we will take the reins. We cannot be diverted from our path. We will not be stopped. Surrender, or be crushed underfoot. Those are your only choices.
Celestine looked at the message that one of her guards had delivered not too long ago. The Grey Falcons had managed to take the Black Citadel from the clutches of the Black Dogs. It was something she didn't want to believe, but her own scouts are reporting that what this message said was indeed accurate. She had never known the name Arlan Grey until recently. Kaguya had brought it up in passing conversation about the Grey Falcons, and her concern of how such a large force managed to go by unnoticed. She, at the time, was more concerned with the then-upcoming assault on the Black Citadel that the Black Dog Mercenaries were planning to launch, so she didn't pay much attention.
It was a mistake to not pay attention to them. She shook her head, and began walking to the meeting chamber. No doubt the others were already arguing about what to do, now that they've officially had war declared on them. It pains her to know that, despite having finally finished the war with the Dark Elves, they were now immediately thrown into another war. She only prayed that Olga was alright.
"Damnit all!" she heard Maia shouting. "Who do they think they are?! I'll fucking kill them!!"
"Calm yourself, Maia," Kaguya chided. "Letting your anger get the better of you will do you no good here."
"Kaguya is right," Claudia said. "We already knew the Black Dogs were planning something along the lines of what the Grey Falcons accused them of. Their announcement about it changes nothing. At least, to us."
"How could they overcome the Black Dogs, though?" Alicia asked. "That's what I want to know. The Black Dogs were among the best of the best. I find it highly unlikely that some relative unknown was able to just overcome them like that."
"Whose cities are closest to the Black Citadel?" Prim pointed out. "We need to plan out our defenses, now. Otherwise, we'll likely not get the chance."
As Celestine took her seat, she failed to notice one of the guards near her tuck the part of his cloak with the emblem of the Grey Falcons in.
Spoiler: Author's Notes Like ReplyReport Reactions:gartf, JohnWolfie34, dragonborn and 299 othersGontxvenSunday at 10:39 PMAdd bookmarkView discussionThreadmarks Chapter 5 View contentGontxvenI honestly have no idea what I'm doing at all.Sunday at 11:00 PMAdd bookmark#9"FUCKING BULLSHIT!" Vault shouted, clutching his tankard while reading the intelligence his remaining scouts managed to gather.
He was furious. The Grey Falcons, after their announcement, had rapidly fortified the Black Citadel, and begun repair work on the keep. If anything, they appeared to be expanding it. He would launch an attack while they're still vulnerable, but that would only work if they were actually vulnerable. No way in hell they would allow the same vulnerabilities to be present once they took over. And that artillery they were using.. Based on what few men who actually faced it and lived reported, it could outrange the best of their remaining catapults by a wide margin. They would be shot dead before they even got close. How the hell did they get their hands on such advanced weaponry? And without anyone noticing? It makes no goddess-damned sense!
"Damnit all," Vault said. "If we're ever going to be seen as a threat again, we need to take the Grey Falcons down."
He kept thinking of Shamhauza, that mage. He was an ally of the Black Dogs, and would be more than willing to help supply troops. After all, he wanted Kaguya for whatever reason. Vault could only guess, but the mage creeped him the fuck out. He hated relying on him, but he had little other choice.
"Send word to Shamhauza, if possible," Vault barked to one of his men. "We need whatever reinforcements he's able to provide. Now!"
The man quickly ran to deliver the message. He hoped the man wouldn't be intercepted, but he couldn't guarantee it. Grey Falcon scouts have been eyeing this fort's position for a while now. If he had the men to spare, he would have them hunted down and killed, but as it stands, his forces aren't unified. He does not, and likely will not, have the men to spare. It also doesn't help that he's received reports that after the Grey Falcons sent out their war declaration to the Seven Shields, some of his men that were sent to cause havoc in their cities had been executed on the spot. It wasn't in every city. It was only in the cities Kaguya and Alicia controlled, but still.
"Damnit... This wasn't supposed to go this way," Vault bemoaned. "We had it all in our hands and now look at us."
Once he was back on top, he would crush Arlan's skull with his bare hands. Better yet, while he was raping that elf, Celestine. Would make this all worth it. For now, he downed his ale, and continued looking at reports, unaware of the Falcon perched just outside his window staring at him.
In hindsight, never bothering to pay attention to the names of the cities in Eostia was not a good idea, all things considered. Most of what I have on their names was from a fanfic I read a while back featuring Bloodborne. Yeah, that was a good read. Epitomizes exactly what kind of fates I would LIKE to inflict on all the Black Dogs, but that would take time and effort that I simply do not have the ability to spare during a revolution. Fortunately, the city closest to the Black Citadel hasn't had many people come to reinforce it yet, but that will change eventually. Or it would, if sympathizers on the inside weren't preventing requests from leaving the city. I was not too surprised to find out they existed. After all, the fact that the Grey Falcons were able to grow as large as we are now speaks volumes about how many people aren't happy with current leadership.
I really don't care who controls what city, in all honesty. I'm just looking at the current defenses, and seeing that the walls, while sturdy, would not hold up to artillery fire. Shame. Means I can't really use my good artillery here, much as it pains the Halflings. I want the walls mostly intact, after all. I'm not seeking to destroy Eostia. I'm seeking to rebuild it into a better version of itself, tearing down the old institutions along the way. The people don't deserve to suffer. I'm still waiting for my messenger to the city to return. They were sent to the city's leadership, to ask if they surrender or not. We'll see if they do, but I have my doubts. To them, we're likely just a jumped-up mercenary band who got lucky, and with the help of the Seven Shields, we'll be crushed underfoot.
Unfortunately for them, I do not intend to play fair when it comes to war. Honor's for those who need to maintain dignity, and for fools. We're not looking for dignity. We're not looking for glory or honor. We're looking to win, and if that means resorting to guerrilla warfare wherever possible, then so be it. Superior military technology, along with espionage and guerrilla warfare is what's going to win us the day.
"Sir, the messenger is back," one of my men reports.
"Did they reply as we expected?" I ask.
"Regrettably," the man says. "They do not surrender, and ever so politely told us to, and the soldier quoted, 'Fuck off, you mangy peasants.'"
"So be it," I reply. "We march tomorrow. Have our tunnelers begin digging into the city. And have our infiltrators begin poisoning the guards. With any luck, this will be as quick as our capture of the Black Citadel."
"Sir!" the soldier salutes before moving to begin relaying my orders.
I can already see the complaints of the Seven Shields now, about how my tactics will be dishonorable or for the wicked. Bitch, I'm not trying to be honorable here, nor am I looking for glory. I'm here to win a war, and to overthrow a government. And if I have to resort to being as dishonorable as possible to do so, I fucking will. I'm not going to slaughter civilians, but I'm not above putting them in captivity as hostages. I'm not above having prominent nobles displayed for all to see as captives. I'll probably be going to hell for what I'm doing, but this world was already headed that way anyway. Now that I think about it, though, Hell would, in all honesty, be an improvement to what this world was going to be. And if that isn't saying something, I don't know what is.
Spoiler: Author's Notes Like ReplyReport Reactions:gartf, HobDobby, veesmaster and 286 othersGontxvenSunday at 11:00 PMAdd bookmarkView discussionThreadmarks Chapter 6 View contentGontxvenI honestly have no idea what I'm doing at all.Sunday at 11:10 PMAdd bookmark#10"THE GREY FALCONS ARE HERE!" one of the guards shouted, attempting to wake up the men in the barracks. "GET YOUR ASSES UP ALREADY!"
He walked over to the nearest series of beds, and tried poking one of the men with the blunt end of his spear, only for him to turn over, dead.
"Wha-" was all the guard managed to get out before a knife went through his throat.
"What the hell is this?" the Guard Captain said, looking at the Western Barracks.
Every last Guard in there was slaughtered to the last. A knife in the back, their own spear shoved in their side, clear evidence of poison having been ingested... It was one nightmarish scene after another. He could hear the walls being pelted by what he thought were some form of trebuchet or cannon. Every soldier was needed. This was a full attack, and to find an entire guard contingent dead before the attack began....
"...Horrifying," the Guard Captain remarked, a chill running up and down his spine.
What had his city's leadership gotten him into?
I can see the city's defenders marshaling to try to repel my men, but fat lot of good that'll do them with the low-powered artillery and cannons guarding our position. Honestly, this will probably be pathetically easy. That is, if we were JUST tackling the City's defenders. Looks like a roving band of Orcs noticed the chaos and wants to join in. Probably waiting for one of us to tire the other out so we'd be easy pickings. Fortunately enough for us, these ones appear to be idiots, and fell right into the trap that a couple of the Orcs that joined the Grey Falcons laid out. Seriously, how in the hell Orcs are dumb enough to fall for scarecrows made in the shape of reasonably attractive women, I'll never fucking know.
At least we can cull some of the population of the roving bands of rapists. That'll put a smile on my face, if nothing else. I turn my attention to the city's noble district with my spyglass. I don't expect my men to be able to get there so soon, but I need to be certain of reports some sympathizers gave me. Allegedly, if what reports are saying is true, this city was planned to be a slaving station, where slaves would be traded in and out, and work had already begun on that front. The Nobles were all in on it, as it meant that they got more beautiful women to rape or do with as they saw fit. Fuck this setting. I know I keep thinking and saying it, but seriously, fuck this setting. Every time I see more evidence of its cruelty, I feel more justified in what I'm doing.
I was never one for the "The Extremist Was Right" trope in fiction, as it sounded like it glorified extreme acts to get your way. That should never have a place in polite society. But Kuroinu isn't polite society, and it would go to hell if something wasn't done immediately. I shuddered at some of my memories. Due to how Memory Magic works, when attempting to recall one's own memories, if you're not careful, you could end up with far more memories of yourself across timelines than you wanted. Granted, in my defense, I did it in a drunken stupor so I could hardly be the epitome of "careful". And it did give me the knowledge I needed to do something about the crisis this Nation, if not this world, was going to face.
In one timeline, Arlan, who wasn't born a Memory Mage, was just a simple peasant, and was a diligent enough farmer. Then he was kidnapped by the Black Dogs to be put to work on a slave farm or something similar. And then one of the Mercs who was watching that farm noticed how huge the cock of that timeline's Arlan was. Like, it rivaled ORCS in sheer size. It boggles the mind how that timeline's Arlan managed to keep it in his pants. You'd think with how fragile the egos of the Black Dogs are, that Arlan would just be executed on the spot right? Haha, wrong. He suffered far worse. He was brought to a Black Dog stronghold, force-fed some form of alchemical concoction, and forced to rape one of his childhood friends for shits and giggles.
Thankfully, the memories I have of that Arlan die there, but lord knows how furious I'd be if I had any more memories. Shaking my head to clear my thoughts, I notice something odd. A large caravan looks to be attempting to sneak out via an exit we purposefully left unguarded for civilians to be able to flee. Using a more high-power spyglass, I look closer at them, and notice quite a few slave-girls being smuggled out. Fucking bastards. Some of them look like half-breeds, others look like average people, while more still look like they haven't eaten in lord knows how long.
"Men, change of plans," I say. "Move to the unguarded entrance. A caravan is attempting to sneak out, carrying a large number of would-be slaves. Liberate the slaves, and kill the captors. THAT'S AN ORDER!"
"Sir!" a number of my soldiers salute, before heading off to the unguarded entrance.
I haven't paid much more attention to the other defenders, because really, once the attack started, the guards on the inside of the city had to deal with a sudden peasant revolt. I don't even know how that started, as that wasn't part of my plans, but I'll take it. It'll make trying to secure the city harder, but if it means the corrupt nobility gets ousted, I'm all for it. The assassins were only supposed to deal with the guards that were to be stationed on or in the walls, as well as the guards watching the entrances.
Time is of the essence here, however. Even though the Seven Shields aren't enough to stop me from taking this city, were they to interfere, that would set back progress by a not insignificant amount. My advantage so far has been speed and surprise. I aim to keep those advantages wherever possible. This city isn't important in the grand scheme of things, but it's close enough to the Black Citadel to be a good staging ground, and the Seven Shields KNOW it. If there was ever a prime opportunity to stop me before I became an unstoppable threat, it's here. Well, nothing for it but to take the city before they get here, then.
Spoiler: Author's Notes Like ReplyReport Reactions:gartf, HobDobby, JohnWolfie34 and 282 othersGontxvenSunday at 11:10 PMAdd bookmarkView discussionThreadmarks Chapter 7 View contentGontxvenI honestly have no idea what I'm doing at all.Monday at 12:59 AMAdd bookmark#12The sudden peasant revolt gave us enough cover to be able to breach the walls. My men are competent enough that they should be able to find and finish off the corrupt nobility in this city, allowing me some free time to plan what's going to happen to it while we wait. The Seven Shields, or their forces, are on their way, make no mistake. But our fortifications around the city are finally complete, with high-power artillery present to deter an offensive. I've given the Halflings the basic idea of trains and mass transit, and they got their grubby mitts on it and got to work. They've developed a prototype magic-powered train car that, along with enough railwork, would be able to transport us rapidly from the Black Citadel to this city and vice versa. I can only applaud how creative and smart they are. I only gave them the basic idea, and they went and ran with it.
It'll take a while to lay the railwork, but once done, the train will be implemented for troop movements. At least, for now. The idea is that, once the war is over, we'll expand the operations for civilian use. And I was glad they managed to figure out a magic-based train as opposed to a coal-based one. I don't know how the atmosphere operates on this world, compared to that of Earth's, so having some assurance that this won't cause disaster is a good thing. A messenger approaches my aide, and I'm not able to hear their conversation from where I'm at, at least not its totality, but I get the basic points here and there.
One of the Seven Shields is leading the counter-invasion, but they aren't sure which one. Scouts report they'll be here in a few days, and attempt to repel us from the city. They didn't expect us to pretty much already have it taken, I'd imagine. From what they're able to gather, they also have standing orders to take me alive. Not dead. Alive. Apparently, some of the nobility want me to be paraded in a public trial to showcase what would happen to "upstarts" like me. I doubt the Seven Shields member leading the charge is 100% comfortable with it, but they do have their orders. How such orders came about, I don't know. It would be a good tactic, if they could actually capture me.
Unfortunately, I've been prepared for such scenarios for a while. I've been planning this for years. Years. Do you think I'd half-ass this at all? No. I have a scroll with a teleportation circle in it linked to my magic in one of my pockets. It holds enough power for me, and the vast majority of troops I've brought with me, to teleport back to Grey Falcon headquarters. Took a few mages years to prepare enough magic to pour into the scroll. But it was worth it, just in case it became necessary.
One of my men announced that we've finally found this city's mayor and lord. Turns out he was sniveling somewhere in his manor, hidden behind a bookcase. Nobles and their hidden passageways. What can I tell you?
"Citizens, you may have heard my name recently," I begin. "My name is Arlan Grey, leader of the Grey Falcons."
I can hear the citizens murmur amongst themselves. No doubt they likely heard all manner of rumor about me, and what I looked like. I probably look shockingly normal to a lot of them, I'd imagine.
"Like all of you," I continue, "I was born a peasant. Yes, I am able to use magic, but that doesn't change the status of my birth. It was a life that was simple, easy, and honest. You worked your farm, your lands, day in, and day out. Tending the fields, watching after the animals, chasing away the occasional pest. It was a hard life, but an honest one. One that many here can relate to, I take it."
The murmuring stops after that.
"And like many of you, I was forced to work under a corrupt lord," I continue, "who abused his peasants as he saw fit. Collecting inordinate tithes, taking all of our harvests, ruining our fields, the list can go on and on. We hated him, but we still followed his orders. We kept our heads down. That changed the instant I saw the truth of this land, how corrupt it was down to its very core. How these nobles sit on their high horses, sneering at us like they're somehow better when all they do is chomp down on wild game in their manors."
I can see a good number of them start to get angry at that.
"And what of the Seven Shields?" I ask them. "Servants of the Goddess Reborn? Maybe, but look at where their leadership has left us! A corrupt nobility hell bent on lining its own pockets and indulging in sadistic pleasure at the expense of those beneath them! The Goddess Reborn, through inaction or incompetence, had us caught in a war that lasted for centuries!"
I can hear a few angry shouts beginning.
"Worse still, that war enabled an entirely new, and extremely disgusting, threat in the Black Dogs to arise!" I shout. "Their work would have turned your city into a slaver's paradise, where slaves are traded in and out as easily as you trade grain! Where your men are either slaughtered or sent to work in slave farms, and your women are turned into tools for their pleasure!"
I can hear large amounts of shouting beginning.
"But no more! Now, I, as the leader of the Grey Falcons do solemnly swear," I continue. "I will not rest until this nation becomes one that serves its people! I will not rest until the corrupt nobility are torn down and brought to justice! I will not rest until I see true peace, and safety, restored to its people! Not one built on lies, teetering on the brink of ruin thanks to the corrupt!"
A large amount of the gathered crowd begins to cheer.
"And to begin," I continue, as a few of my men drag the former Lord Mayor out in front of the crowd. "Here is your Lord Mayor, standing accused, and having been proven, of aiding and abetting the Black Dogs in attempting to turn this city into a slaver's home! I ask you, good people, what do you wish to happen to him?!"
"Justice!" "Death!" "Kill Him!"
"You heard them, men!" I shout. "Read him his last rites, and bring the axe down on his head. It's a far more dignified death than he deserves."
The axe couldn't fall on him soon enough.
Spoiler: Author's Notes Like ReplyReport Reactions:gartf, HobDobby, JohnWolfie34 and 311 othersGontxvenMonday at 12:59 AMAdd bookmarkView discussionThreadmarks Chapter 8 View contentGontxvenI honestly have no idea what I'm doing at all.Monday at 2:13 AMAdd bookmark#19Alicia Arcturus rode out to where the Grey Falcons were reported to be marching towards. Many thoughts were swirling in her head, not the least of which was how they were able to catch the Black Dogs off-guard. They were supposed to be the best mercenaries and fighters around, and yet the Grey Falcons not only beat them, but captured the Black Citadel from them so rapidly that it looked easy. How such a thing could occur—especially because of a group that just appeared out of nowhere—was beyond her. It still didn't change the fact that the group had declared war on the Seven Shields Alliance, and as such, had to be either put down or captured.
The soldiers following her all talked amongst themselves as they rode out. Many of them were nervous, and very likely afraid, of what they were going to face. How could they not be? This was a group known for dealing a crippling blow to the Black Dogs, lucky as they might have gotten. She shook the same fears from her head as she approached the top of the hill where they would be overlooking their destination. And when she got there, what she saw shook her to her core. It was no longer a city; it was a fortress—surrounded by fortifications enhanced by what she assumed were some type of either siege weapon or something similar.
The city was clearly not capable of such production before, so that only left one real possibility. It frustrated her to no end, but the Grey Falcons not only managed to get there before she was able to, but decisively captured the city and fortified it. This was no longer a defensive mission; this was one of liberation. As she turned to give her new orders to her soldiers, she heard something whizzing in the air and had just enough time to move her horse out of the way. A loud explosion wracked the area, causing her to get knocked off her horse and tumble to the ground.
What the—how could they strike her at this distance?! She got up and looked around. A good portion of her soldiers were hit directly by the attack, and she could see them dead. Others managed to get out of the way in time, but… if this was the sort of weaponry the Grey Falcons had at their disposal… did they even really stand a chance?
"Hmm… direct hit," I say. "Not bad for one of our latest models. Have them enter production, and let the survivors approach the city. We need some if we're going to be using them as a negotiating lever later."
"Sir!" the woman next to me says before marching off to relay my orders.
I turn around and begin walking down the steps. It's been a rapid few days, using this city as a test case for some new legal framework. I'm not stupid enough to think that importing modern laws would somehow be possible, at least to the degree that would be desired. Instead, I decided to use this city as a test—to see which laws would work—and to my very pleasant surprise, equal rights for all citizens was something the people of this city could get behind. I've been emigrating some of the Dark Elf and Halfling civilians under my watch into this city. Not too many, just enough to get people used to the idea of living with them. While there is some nervous tension—understandable given the circumstances—they seem to be willing to accept it. I guess it helps that some of the Grey Falcons have taken to patrolling the streets.
A notable incident was when the former Lord Mayor's son was dragged into the square by some local kids. He wasn't old enough to be able to mistreat people to the degree that his father was, so we left him alone. Apparently, the citizens didn't like that all that much—or at least their kids didn't—and they tried to drag him out to face "justice." A passing Grey Falcon noticed what was going on and promptly put a stop to it. We punish the guilty and the corrupt; we do not harm those who can be considered innocent. We give children second chances. Apparently, that inspired the brat to sign up for our recruitment program for kids. He apparently had a thing for knights and heroes of justice. Good kid, in the end.
I check our traps for the Seven Shields, and it looks like the disguised swampland's still good—along with a few spike traps here or there. …Wonder if they'll come across some of the Orc traps we left behind? …Still can't get over how easy it is to trick some of the regular orcs. Like, they're just scarecrows in the shape of women. How, in the hell, someone could fall for them, I have no idea, but they work—to my complete and utter bewilderment.
"Sir," one of my scouts reports in. "Our assassin squads are ready."
"Good," I reply. "Tell them to begin laying their wire traps. With any luck, we'll be able to capture enough of them before they enter the city to force them to surrender."
They don't stand much of a chance against us even if they do, but always better to have something to force their hand. Part of me wonders how they'd react when they find out that, even if by some miracle they drive us out of the city, the people will immediately turn on them? Didn't think I had the charisma to inspire such loyalty or fervor, but hey, I'll take it.
Alicia bemoaned her current predicament. Somehow, in some way, the ground that looked like fertile fields was sinking underneath their march. Not helping matters was that a fog or something similar was beginning to set in. She suspected foul play or some form of magic but couldn't verify it with what she had on hand. She was directing troops as much as she could, but there was only so much she could do when the fog was starting to become incredibly thick and movement across the terrain was increasingly difficult.
That the Grey Falcons wouldn't fight with honor didn't surprise her. After all, that was the only way that they could have beaten the Black Dogs, in her mind. Before she could progress further, a large number of her soldiers suddenly screamed, and as she turned around, she saw a large chunk of them just… gone. No one there. A chill ran down her spine, but before she could really do much more a blunt impact on the back of her head knocked her out cold.
Spoiler: Author's Notes Like ReplyReport Reactions:gartf, HobDobby, JohnWolfie34 and 269 othersGontxvenMonday at 2:13 AMAdd bookmarkView discussionThreadmarks Chapter 9 View contentGontxvenI honestly have no idea what I'm doing at all.Monday at 2:21 AMAdd bookmark#20"Ugh…." Alicia said, rubbing the back of her head. "W-where am I…?"
"Ah, good, you're up," a male voice replied. "I was worried you might have a more serious concussion, but thankfully that worry appears unfounded."
"Who are—" Alicia began, only to turn around and come face to face with a man whose name had been on everyone's mind lately: Arlan Grey.
"In case you haven't noticed, you've been beaten, and your soldiers captured," Arlan said. "Try anything funny, and I will not be able to guarantee their safety."
"You—" Alicia tried to say.
"You will shut up, and allow me to continue talking," Arlan said, silencing her on the spot. "I don't know what kind of brain-dead, hopeless naïveté you run on, but let me get a few things straight here: You lost. I won. You're now a prisoner of war, and how you're treated is entirely up to me. Got it?"
Alicia wanted to argue, but as she looked around and saw she was in what amounted to a glorified jail cell, she nodded.
"Good, there's some sense in that brain of yours after all," Arlan said.
"What are you even doing, waging war against the Seven Shields like this?!" Alicia complained. "Don't you know—"
"You've consistently failed to actually do anything to solve the root issues plaguing the citizens of Eostia," Arlan countered. "And would have completely, and totally, lost to the Black Dogs the moment they actually got to invade."
"You don't know—" Alicia tried to counter, but—
"I do. You would have lost," Arlan said. "Hell, not only would you have lost, but you personally would surrender your entire fortress to save a small group of nuns that actively told you to forget about them so that your city could survive."
"What kind of 'saviour' fights without honor?!" Alicia shouted, in what even she had to admit was a weak attempt at defending herself.
"Seems there's been a bit of a mix-up there, girlie," Arlan said. "No one ever said I was a saviour, now did they? I am what people would call a 'Revolutionary.' I do not seek to save Eostia: I seek to completely remake it from the ground up. And honor? Tell me, where was your honor when the people were raped by orcs? Where was your honor when the Black Dogs tried to have their way with the citizens? Where was your honor when my village was attacked?! Oh, that's right—it's in a ditch."
Alicia just stared at him, stunned.
"Honor doesn't save lives, girl," Arlan said. "Honor doesn't feed families. Honor doesn't wipe away the pain that the people feel. You, and your honor, are worthless to me."
Arlan turned and walked away, leaving her alone with her thoughts.
"Alright prisoners, step to your assigned tables to receive your tagged collars," the Grey Falcon soldier said.
Alicia stepped up to the table and took her collar. Even she, with as little experience with this stuff as she had, could tell this was enchanted. With what, she didn't know. She put it on, and then moved to the area the guards were ushering her to.
"Step out of line, or attempt to leave the city, and those collars will deliver a lethal shock," one of the Grey Falcons' mages said. "You are not free, despite being allowed to walk. You are prisoners of war, and will be treated as such. You are to report to your assigned jail cells when your assigned curfew begins. Failure to do so will result in a warning shock. Continued failure will result in ever-increasing levels of pain until it reaches lethal amounts. Attempt to remove these collars outside of your assigned bathing time will also result in a lethal shock. Outside of these parameters, you are free to wander about this city as you see fit."
Small mercies, Alicia thought to herself. Now that she had this collar on, she decided to walk around the city. Little else she could do, in all honesty. Her weapons and armor were confiscated, and she was given basic clothing to wear. Fancier than what her soldiers got, but still basic at the end of the day. As she exited the makeshift garrison, she looked around at the city. You could hardly tell there had been a battle recently, at least on the inside. She couldn't leave, but based on what chatter she was overhearing, the walls were damaged in places by the Grey Falcons' weapons.
By and large, at least from what she was able to see, the Grey Falcons were relatively bloodless in their capture of the city. Oh, she had heard rumors from one of the nobles about what they would do to the civilians, but everything she was told was completely false. If she ever made it out of here in one piece, she would have to find whoever told her those rumors and tell them the truth.
"Say, you hear about what Arlan's plan is?" she overheard one of the various peasants in the city say.
"Yeah, I think I overheard one of them Grey Falcons talk about it earlier," another replied. "Somethin' about building a school or something in this city. Give all of us equal oppor-oppor-… chances and whatnot."
Alicia's ears perked up at that. Come again? A school? And it isn't exclusively for the nobility? It's to be made available to everyone?
"And this is all on top of that hospital of his," another peasant said. "A place where everyone can get the healin' they need, free of charge or tithes to the church. Sure it's just a tent, and some healers now, but the Falcons say that they've got plans in the works for a more permanent building."
…Wait—is what she managed to overhear true?
"Take it you managed to have a pleasant walk through the city, eh?" the prison bartender said, handing her a tankard. "Yer' not the only one, lassie. Sir Arlan's got some big plans for the nation."
"He hasn't received a noble title or a knighthood at all," Alicia pointed out.
"Ah, piss to titles!" the bartender said. "Most of us Grey Falcons seriously look up to the guy. Callin' him sir seems appropriate. Here's the rest of yer meal, lass."
It wasn't anything fancy, like she might have been used to elsewhere, but it was still something she was used to on the road from time to time. Basic meat, likely some form of local game, and assorted vegetables.
"…Is what I overheard true?" Alicia asked the bartender.
"Ye need to be specific there, lass," the bartender replied.
"Did Arlan really order for a hospital and school to be built?" Alicia asked.
"Aye," the bartender replied. "Among his first orders after taking the city, even. He's serious about his vision for this nation, lass. And he's thought long and hard about it."
"…." was Alicia's response, before taking her meal and sitting at an open table.
She had a lot to think about. Maybe another few talks with Arlan are in order.
Spoiler: Author's Notes Like ReplyReport Reactions:gartf, CrazyGuy, HobDobby and 273 othersGontxvenMonday at 2:21 AMAdd bookmarkView discussionThreadmarks Chapter 10 View contentGontxvenI honestly have no idea what I'm doing at all.Monday at 2:27 AMAdd bookmark#22When she actually wanted to find the man, it was rather hard to find him, she noted to herself. As Alicia continued walking through the city's streets, she saw more and more examples of the Grey Falcons actually improving the lives of the citizens of the city. From looking at their crops, to playing with their kids, to helping build the city back up again. It was harder for her to deny the fact that, in spite of what rumors might be circulating in the capital, the Grey Falcons actually cared about the people of Eostia. Each and every one of them, as crazy as the idea sounded. There was not a member among them that she was able to talk to who didn't care about Eostia. In fact, based on what she heard, some of them might care a bit too much.
As she was walking by what looked to be an orphanage, she heard music being played. She didn't recognize the instrument, but it sounded like music all the same. Curious, she turned around and saw the man she was looking for playing what looked like a set of small drums for a group of orphan children.
"Big bro! Big bro! Play it again!" one of the kids shouted.
"Alright, alright," Arlan said, laughing. "You kids really seem to like this song, huh?"
As Arlan began playing again, Alicia stopped and paused. Was this man—the one currently playing something that sounded like a small set of drums to kids—really the same person behind the Grey Falcons? It was hard to reconcile the image of a power-hungry conqueror that she had built up in her mind with the man before her now. As she listened to what Arlan was playing, she noted that it had a different sort of energy to it than the music she was used to hearing. Whereas the music she was used to hearing was slow, this was fast and energizing—something that kids could easily get used to and enjoy, apparently. She found herself absentmindedly tapping her foot along to some of the music as well. A passing Grey Falcon joined in halfway and began playing a flute along to the music.
Pretty soon, a number of other members of the group joined in, and a lot of other people came to see what was going on. What was a request to simply replay a bit of music quickly became a cause for dancing and partying, and Alicia got swept up in all of it.
"Sorry about that, but the children just wouldn't let me stop playing once I started," Arlan said.
"...Why?" Alicia asked.
"Why what?" Arlan replied.
"Why do you play for the kids? Wasn't this whole thing about power?" Alicia asked.
"Girl, I don't know what kind of rumors are being said about me elsewhere, and quite frankly I don't really care all that much," Arlan said. "But let me set the record straight there: I do not want power."
"...What?" Alicia asked.
"You heard me, I don't want power," Arlan said. "Noble politics don't interest me. Nor does leading any nation. I just want to go back to my farm, tend to the crops and my animals in peace."
That... surprised her. By and large, amongst her soldiers, a working assumption that Arlan simply wanted to take over the Eostia he rebuilt was circulating.
"I legitimately do not care for power," Arlan continued. "Never have. Never will. The only reason I'd ever take power is that there is literally no one else qualified or suited to actually lead."
"It's always been that way for Arlan," one of the Grey Falcons said, approaching the two. "Sorry, boss, but I figured I might as well step in here."
"Go ahead," Arlan replied. "I don't mind."
"Right, well, the boss really doesn't like leading," the Grey Falcon said. "Seriously, when we made him the leader of our little settlement, before it eventually became the headquarters of our group, he tried to refuse. One of our own even caught him hiding in an emptied wine barrel. Funniest thing I ever saw, if I'm being honest. Heck, it's even funnier looking back. Like, can you imagine this guy, as he is now, hiding in an emptied wine barrel to avoid leading? But that is something he did."
Alicia just stared, dumbfounded, at what she was hearing. The same Arlan Grey, who crippled the Black Dogs, declared war on Eostia, and captured a city so fast he was able to turn it into what looked like a fortress, actively avoided leadership in the past?
"The boss here really doesn't care for leading people," the Grey Falcon continued. "He'd much rather be workin' on that farm of his. He just saw what was going to happen to Eostia, and decided he couldn't sit by and watch anymore. I think I've said my piece, boss. Ya mind if I leave?"
"Go right ahead," Arlan replied.
The Grey Falcon nodded and left, only to spot some kids and begin playing tag with them. ...She really didn't know what to think anymore.
Alicia began writing a letter to her cousin, Prim. She didn't know if the Grey Falcons would deliver it to her or not, but she still felt the need to write it all the same. Surprisingly, the cell she was provided had all the tools she needed to do so. She began writing on what she saw in the city earlier. It completely clashed with the image of Arlan the nobles in the capital were trying to build—some of whom she considered personal friends, if she was being honest. She would have to tell them about what she saw as well, if she ever got out of this city.
It was hard to put what she was feeling into words. The image she had built up of Arlan versus what she had actually seen and heard about the man from the people close to him was just too much of a clash to easily reconcile. It was true, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he had declared war on the Seven Shields. It was true, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he had crippled the Black Dogs and taken the Black Citadel for his own use. It was true, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that his capture of this city was so rapid that it boggled the mind. And yet, what she saw of him here painted a picture of a man that genuinely cared about the people around him. That wasn't the image of a warmonger.
That was the clash that rattled Alicia the most, out of everything. He was genuinely playing music for those kids. He was genuinely laughing and having fun with them. He was making this city better for its residents. She even saw him bounce a rather young child—no older than two or three by her estimate—on his knee while he was playing. He even allowed the kid to play on the instrument as well. ...She would need to have another talk with him, if only to apologize to him. He was still on the opposite side of a war, but that shouldn't mean he isn't a decent person. ...That she had to be captured to see that made her angry.
Spoiler: Author's Notes