The Calamitous Bob

Acuity +1

Acuity Reflex: Beginner 8

Danger Sense: Beginner 8

It made sense that those skills mostly improved when she was in danger. Viv considered the small yet helpful progression as the veterans finished off the wounded beastlings and collected their own. The old man by her side turned to her.

“You can’t prove that you killed more than me.”

“I can definitely prove it, you decrepit fucker.”

She climbed down while her erstwhile neighbor complained about ‘youth these days’. The younger warrior she had saved from being carried off grabbed a hand with frantic gratefulness.

“I was dead without ya. If you were a man, I’d marry you without my parents’ approval!”

“Errr thanks?”

The poor girl was soon dragged by the ear by an irate relative. Looking around, some of the soldiers were young and whole, probably family members who had decided to join. A bit green around the edge. Her ‘retinue’ gathered while she was looking around.

“Got the last shamans,” Two-Six said in a slightly gravelly voice. Her eyes were searching the closest veterans who were, in turn, studiously ignoring her.

//A satisfactory outcome.

Arthur didn’t say anything. She was doing her best to gnaw on a partially-roasted furry limb. It resisted the attempt and it looked like the dragonette was taking the offense personally. Marruk seemed fine, still vigilant despite their recent victory.

“Ok. You guys can do what you want, I’m going to check the infirmary.”

A makeshift perimeter had been established. It was mostly empty and those who were brought in went out almost immediately on their two feet. Or one foot and a prosthesis, depending. Solar joined her soon after with his wife in tow. She met Viv’s eyes and placed a proprietary hand on the tall man’s ass.

“You did very well. How long have you been here? On Nyil?” Solar asked.

“Six months, give or take.”

“You were a war mage in your previous world then?”

“No, a combat medic. Like a battlefield healer.”

“A doctor?”

“Some people joke that doctors save people while we just make them comfortable. In reality my job was more to find the wounded, stabilize them and evacuate them.”

He blinks.

“Ah, you were thinking about helping us further. Do not worry, most of the veterans are on their third or even fourth step here. They have more attunement than the average grunt.”

Viv understood what he meant. As people got older, their attunement increased and they had access to a bit more life mana, so it essentially meant that older, more experienced folks could cure more allies. There was a limit, of course, but it made a difference.

“In any case, thanks for the assistance. It is always awe-inspiring to fight alongside a war caster. In any case, please excuse me as there is much to do and we should not stay here.”

The veterans quickly made a pile of bodies which they set on fire. The few convoy members who had died were buried quickly but with ceremony. A few had been dragged into the tide and killed. A young man had caught a stone on the other side of the palissade. The bereaved cried silent tears but kept on with the rest with a perseverance that Viv found concerning. They moved quickly to leave the pile of roasting meat and the predators it would inevitably attract. They camped that night as if nothing had happened.

Arthur lost her fight against the piece of monster. It was too stringy.

They were in Kazar a week later.

The arrival of the veterans led to a party on the fair fields, following which Viv was pretty much gang-pressed into providing surgery the very next morning before they could even get settled. Hadals brought monster meat which was turned into biological goop and almost all of the convoy came to attend the first operation. Unsurprisingly, Solar had been selected by unanimous vote. He was led in by a teary Wamiri in the pale light of the rainy dawn. Every attendant was tense. Some were praying.

“You know I’ve done that shit before, right?” Viv said, somewhat miffed.

“Don’t take it personally. They have been told all their lives that what we can do is impossible,” Brenna told her. The grey-haired healer of Neriad looked much fresher than Viv who was still a bit tired after almost three weeks of traipsing through the woods like some savage. At least she had taken the time to bathe.

Viv proceeded as usual, though with a bit more care since she had not cast that spell in two weeks. The construct still flowed as naturally as before thanks to her improved mind. It had stayed fresh in her memory. She was still not used to all of it, being able to think more clearly, focus on more things for a longer time. It just felt too good to be true. Regardless of her concerns, they regrew the arm with precision over the course of two hours, her patient unmoving on his stone slab as usual. Solar sat up from the operation table when they were done and slowly, slowly raised his new hand. It was pale and hairless but appeared functional.

“Slightly less muscular than the original. A hair longer too,” he casually announced.

“Oh, sorry, it’s just that—”

“Shhh.”

Viv would feel annoyed but there was something mesmerizing about seeing Solar flex his fingers one by one, first slowly then faster until she could no longer follow. He finally gathered them into a fist. Viv felt mana push from the man’s shoulder, probably an early attempt to regrow his channel.

“It will take some time before you can channel mana again from it, and it will itch extremely uncom…”

The mana surged and Viv watched, mesmerized, as the channels reformed before her eyes. They grew by a centimeter by second. Solar’s expression was one of absolute focus.

Viv was absolutely confident that it would be less painful to skinny dip in a bath of concentrated sulfuric acid than attempt what that motherfucker was doing right now.

The channels kept expanding. Sweat pearled on the handsome man’s brow but he never stopped, not even a little. Finally, he growled and the conduits reformed the rest of the way to his fingertips.

He exhaled.

“Bah putain,” Viv exclaimed in French.

“By Neriad’s plump buttocks, really?” Brenna added. She had handled the patients’ discomfort over the past month and she knew what he had done.

Solar ignored them completely. He picked up his sword by the door and stepped out. A crowd waited outside. The blade master drew his blade and picked a large stone from the still-barren ground. He threw it in the air.

His new arm blurred.

The stone split cleanly into eight mid-air like some bullshit samurai superhero movie prop or something. Viv had never seen something so outrageous. The crowd loved it though. Wamiri burst into tears and smashed into her husband who passionately embraced her while they cheered and celebrated with warm tears. Prayers to Neriad were sung with boisterous enthusiasm. Even Brenna was moved.

“I heal for moments like this,” she whispered in Viv’s ears. The outlander nodded wisely, though she could not help but bemoan that miraculous events were a god’s grace while any fuckup was hers. Typical. Her grumpiness was short-lived however, and soon Wamiri crushed her in a bear hug that let her count all her ribs.

“Thank you, thank you! We waited for so long!”

The woman then said words in a language Viv had never heard. Others came to congratulate her as well. It was the first time that she saw the veterans smile so freely. They jumped and talked in clumps on the grey dust of the reclaimed land, with a few green sprouts here and there like glimmers of hope. Viv took a deep breath. It smelled a little bit like dirty people with a black mana aftertaste but… that was fine. She had clear goals for Kazar and for herself, plans on how to repair her soul and survive. Those were all things that would happen in a vague future. This, here and now, was a concrete achievement.

And now she had to clear more land.

The group of veterans quickly organized themselves by order of urgency. The blind archer was first on the new list on account of him being a great hunter and monster meat being a necessary ingredient to regrow the limbs. The nobles put themselves first and Viv wanted to put a stop to that, but they argued that their leadership skills made them useful in organizing hunting and building parties and, while Viv smelled bullshit, the others did not object. She was not willing to die on that hill.

The next month became a blur of activity. She would operate on three to four people per day, with a day break every now and then, most of those used to work on more ward stones. Arthur used the opportunity to go with the hunting parties and observe them and their prey while Marruk trained against the newly-healed veterans. There was one incident with the general store shopkeeper trying to gain more power in the city. He was a narcissist with a tendency to claim credit for other people’s achievement. Fortunately for Viv, she was technically in charge and managed to contain him to a role as ‘export advisor’ to handle his sense of grandiosity while undermining his influence through a defamation campaign. It took her several hours of work to manage the problem. That was fine. Working with assholes was unavoidable, and it was best to nip this in the bud.

Honestly she was tempted to have him assassinated but… just imagining assassinating every asshole in a country made her shiver. Solfis would not get his genocidal maniac. That was out of the question.

Finding a place for the veterans to stay was not exactly a problem. Providing roofs was. Most of the families were content with a plot of land on the frontier and some managed to grow grass and small flowers even though it was getting late in the year. The problem was the nobles. They expected mansions and servants, and there were none. The temple was kind enough to provide them with its temporary officer lodgings but it did not suffice. A pair of them came to visit Viv one evening. She recognized them as some of the plate warriors who had held back the beastling lines.

“I understand your concerns, gentlemen, however, I will be brief. You are Enorian nobility. This is Kazar. There is no excess of land for you to live off here. Even if there was, I would have no reason to give it to you.”

“We are aware that you are an outlander, Bibiane, so we perhaps need to state what should be obvious. Nobles are power multipliers. An army with nobles at their front will always perform better than another, even with fewer fighters. You need us.”

Viv leaned over the tea table with anger in her heart. Solfis, by her side, shifted minutely while Arthur licked her chops with renewed interest. The two bearded men in their fineries did not look too worried, but they did sit back in their chairs.

“I need officers. I need leaders of men. Those are the ones that make armies effective and they naturally tend to rise to the top. You inherited your titles from your ancestors, I am sure, but this is not what makes you leaders. Education and training are what differentiate you from the rest. We provide those now, thanks to Solfis. Our first low-born officer is already on his way to a powerful Harrakan path, so no, gentlemen. I do not need you. The deal is the same for everyone. If you do not like it, you can return to your lands. I won’t hold you back.”

The two men looked at each other.

“We… cannot.”

“Ah yes, you are deserters.”

“No, we were exempted due to our handicap. It is another matter. You are aware of the current… social expectations in Enoria right now?”

“Like how they call me goodmother and I am expected to repopulate the land?”

“Well, yes. Deviating from the norm can bring censure,” the man on the right said.

He gripped the hand of the man on the left.

“Oh,” Viv said. So exciting! Only six months here and Kazar was on its way to become a haven of sexual liberation. How very French of her.

“Which means,” she mercilessly continued, “that you need to stay here more than I need you here.”

“You would truly force us back?”

“Ok enough with the bullshit. You will get officer pay if you become officers. If you spend it on a housekeeper, that’s your problem. If you can’t take the deal then I no longer give a shit.”

“You will need to create nobility, eventually. You are a young woman, Bibane. Let those who know the realities of this world pave the way.”

Viv stood. The officers matched it with offended grace but once again Viv’s unusual height served her well. In the instant it took them to realize they were outsized, Viv unleashed her intimidation aura. The decisiveness of her actions and the broken bodies she left in her trail had marked her soul and she revealed it to them now. The nobles fought it. They were solid men who had fought and bled for their king, but they were creatures of a system they were now rejecting while Viv was a maker and breaker. They were on her turf and here she was bitch queen of the fucking universe.

“I will be indulgent and forget that you contested me twice, and since you are a bit slow on the uptake I will make myself extremely clear. We live and stand here because we have risked everything to resist the old order and Enorian nobility. All those who hold power now do so on their own merits, not hypothetical future ones or because their parents had titles, and I will not change this system for you or for anyone. You will prove yourself and get the pay you deserve or you can get the hell out of my land. That is all. Now get out.”

They left, though the younger one turned and told her one last thing.

“We will prove ourselves then.”

“See that you do.”

Once they were gone, Solfis crouched by her side.

//Should we place them under surveillance?

//Some of the Hadals would be willing.

“Do it.”

//I will add that, according to my records, many emperors experienced difficulties with high nobles.

//May I suggest Empress Kadiran’s approach?

“It’s lethal, isn’t it?”

//She had a habit of having the recalcitrants quartered and decapitated.

//Then had the heads mounted in front of the imperial palace.

“Not sure if it would fit with the decoration.”

//It would.

//If we added more heads.

“I will keep your advice under consideration but let’s keep this as a last resort please. It would be a shame to have armor-plated corpses when I could have warriors instead.”

“Squee?”

“For the last time, that’s not how pressure-cooking works!”

Viv expected trouble but the nobles relaxed their stance, though Viv assumed that it was a temporary reprieve. Instead, they requested that she move the new ward stone to form a triangle with the band of greenery around Kazar as base and an abandoned tower as tip. Viv suspected that they had plans to reclaim strategic points as secondary outposts, which would then need to be administered by competent subordinates, that is to say, themselves. Solfis agreed with her assessment. He also agreed that it reduced the exposure to waves of roaming revenants and provided an additional defensive spot for creatures that roamed deeper in the deadlands. Places like Fort Sky and Fort Stone were still farther inland. The deadlands were vast. Even if the reclamation kept steady with an influx of outside population, it would take centuries or even millennia before they could change the basin back into a livable place. Speaking of the forts, she received worrying news when a contingent of over a hundred Baranese soldiers stopped in the city to resupply.

“We’re vacating the forts and so are the Enorians. It’s too risky to stay here with the civil war messing with our supply lines. Raiders do not respect international treaties,” a captain in white told her over tea.

The man smelled a bit rank but he was obviously grateful for the invitation and Viv didn’t mind too much. He was also very open about the current situation.

“There is a base of Neriad that acts as a nexus for all defenses a week’s travel west of here. Have you been there?”

“No, never. I have not had a reason to go.”

“Well, it is a heavily defended fortress with two mages capable of scrying distant locations and communicating with faraway places. They spread the news of Enoria’s trouble and several kingdoms have decided to temporarily withdraw their soldiery from the frontier. We all depend too much on squads moving freely through Enoria.”

“Is the situation that bad?”

“Oh yes, with both armies in tatters, mounted raids and marauding bands of warriors roam the land, bleeding it dry. Sorry, I’m rambling.”

“It’s nothing. We’ll have to be extra careful.”

“Yes. Any wannabe necromancer who considers moving to the deadlands will do so now. They say that thousands of revenants walk through the southern plains on their way here. Be careful.”

“Yes.”

Another thing she didn’t need. Fortunately, not all news was bad.

***

Viv observed the line of Harrakan heavy recruits moving with their shields linked across the empty field. Despite their numbers, the soldiers remained perfectly aligned as they sprinted at the speed of a moving car. It lasted for a beautiful second and a half then half of the line collapsed with a great fracas. The sound of colliding armors reminded Viv of a fender bender on a highway. All of the men still clambered back to their feet no worse for the wear. At least for now.

“How is that even possible?” she mumbled.

//The specialty of Harrakan infantry was not their superior discipline, equipment, and training.

//It was the famous charging shield wall.

//After consulting with the veterans, it appears that this art was progressively lost after the cataclysm.

“How can an entire technique get lost?” Viv grumbled.

//It was jealously kept by select regiments.

//And those were eventually wiped out.

//A testament to the barbarian fleshbags’ ability to, through relentless efforts, make themselves even more stupid.

“They can’t be barbarians if they came from Harrakan legions.”

//Any force that did not return to defend their capital lost the right to call themselves Harrakan.

There was an edge in the golem’s snarling voice that Viv had seldom heard before. She stole a glance at the entity’s form and failed to see any change, and yet she felt cold crawl down her spine. Solfis’ head turned to her.

//They will manage this maneuver before Prince Lancer returns.

//It will not be enough to tip the scales.

//I expect that the enemy will outnumber us again.

//However, few tactics can be implemented without a solid core of fighters to provide a base.

“I’ll be honest, it doesn’t sound like a charging shield wall is very fair.”

//In war, only the losers care about fairness, Your Grace.

“No no I’m just happy to be on your side Solfis.”

//I know.

//You possess strong survival instincts.

//But unlike everyone else here.

//You were on my side while I was a fading core inside of a dead construct.

//I will not forget.

//Now please excuse me, there is much to do.

//YOU USELESS, ROT-BRAINED FLESHBAGS.

//HOW DO YOU EXPECT TO FIGHT WHEN YOU CANNOT EVEN RUN?

//ARE THOSE ARTICULATED APPENDAGES STUCK TO YOUR ASSES JUST FOR SHOW?

Viv left Solfis to it and thanked all the gods that she was no longer infantry.

***

Progressively, the veterans were cured until only a handful were left. Solar and Solfis had a brief discussion of which Viv was not privy. The blade master agreed to training new recruits as a result, however, so Viv assumed it was good. Some of the veterans joined the scouts and shifted the balance back towards ‘vanilla’ humans among their ranks. It just resulted in more marriages, which Viv was okay with. Others joined the heavies, especially the younger ones. The knights and nobles took the few horses the stables had and formed a mounted detachment with mobility in mind. Unfortunately, they didn’t have chargers so their usefulness would be limited in a straight battle. The last group, at least fifty, joined Solar to form an elite group of fighters and duelists whose role had been played by the temple so far. Solfis talked to Viv on this topic while they were alone.

//I have two pieces of bad news concerning Solar.

“Uh?”

//The first is that he objects to killing humans.

“Wait. Did he not join us to defend against the prince?”

//Indeed.

//He insists that he will fight.

//He will disable his enemies, but not kill them.

“Fuck.”

//Unfortunately, I cannot compel him.

Viv stared at Solfis’ malevolent orbs.

“Cannot?”

//My choice of words was deliberate.

//I assess that he would be better than Irao in single combat.

//He is the only one in this city that could potentially damage this frame to the point of non functionality.

//He has been hiding his true potential.

//Only his wife seems aware of it.

“How do you figure?’

//The distance between them when they spar does not match his displayed ability.

“Okay?”

Must be a sword nut thing.

//And she is used to him fighting with his non-dominant hand.

//Therefore, he has displayed less skill than he was capable of before being healed.

“I see. Is it going to be a problem?”

//Not in the short run.

//His usefulness as a trainer will simply be higher than his usefulness as a warrior.

//He may also leave after the prince is defeated.

//Additionally, I have identified Wamiri as a denizen of Vizim.

//It means that she comes from another continent far to the east of here.

//Beyond Halluria.

“Wow. I should ask them how they met.”

//You might not get an answer.

***

Autumn was now in full swing with cooling temperatures and frequent rains. Viv found that she didn’t mind that much. There was something gothic and peaceful about Kazar in the cold. Every morning, a cold wind would push more purple leaves to fall before her windows. Her schedule cleared with the last veteran being healed with legs that might or might not have been the original size but he didn’t seem to be complaining. With that, Solfis had offered advanced mental exercises recommended for trained mages. She had gone through training regimens like a rocket and was now well on her way to respectability.

It just felt strange to be doing a lot but not moving. She had been in this world for close to nine local months now — probably a bit longer in earth time — and she had not traveled beyond the forest. It was necessary for her survival that she would seek divine healing and she didn’t have any idea where the closest divine caster was, only that they were on their way. Her constant activities were only tangentially related to her official goal and she didn’t really give a shit. It all felt normal those days. She had her friends, her magic, her position in the city. There was always a new glyph to practice or a new problem to solve. She was still progressing quickly. The world was vast and filled with wondrous horrors. Many of them tasted delicious.

***

Another month later saw Viv in her reception room with yet another officer retreating from the deadlands at the head of two hundred soldiers. This one was a little bit problematic.

He was Enorian.

More precisely, he was southern Enorian. The northerners could not send troops through loyalist territory under any circumstances anyway. He headed the last major contingent to leave the Deadlands fort ring. They now stood empty and defenseless. It would have been fine but Kazar was nominally at war or in a state of rebellion depending on whom you asked. This in turn, would have been an issue were it not for the temple of Neriad. They insisted that every soldier serving against the dead should be left to leave unharmed.

Viv was fine with that. Kazar was not ready, those soldiers would probably be used against the north anyway, and she had better things to do than track two hundred fleeing fucks through muddy fields and moist trees.

“Out of respect for the temple and because we understand that keeping the Deadlands at bay serves us all, we agree to let you through. You may not camp or linger within the boundaries of the city, however. No exceptions.”

Farren nodded and drank a bit of tea. The officer facing Viv was not what she expected. The Enorian was short and squat and absolutely covered in muscles. He was an absolute unit. A bristling moustache jutted outward from below a hooked nose that had been broken a couple of times and he had a massive scar on his left cheek that missed his eye by a finger. Clearly, he was not the standard diplomat and it showed when relief flooded his honest features.

“Thanks. I appreciate it. With that said, hmm, I was ordered to, that is to say, there is something else that I am required to discuss with you.”

“What would it be?” Viv asked without surprise. Farren frowned. Apparently, he was not aware that the meeting would cover something else. Neriad servants really were straight arrows.

“It’s about the soldiers you’re holding prisoner. Hm that would be seventy-three of them from the bridgers regiment and an earth-shaper.”

Viv paused and smiled. The captain paled a bit.

“Yes? What about them?”

“Oh, yes. Well, we would like to do an exchange so that they could leave with us.”

“And what do you offer then?”

“Seven indentured blacksmiths released from the temple’s base.”

Farren scoffed, which told Viv all she needed to know.

“Including three arcane blacksmiths.”

From Farren’s shocked face she could tell that the offer was a good one. They discussed back and forth but it became clear that the sweaty man had no authority to offer different terms, so Viv accepted if only because the soldiers and the mage represented a security risk. She hoped that it would not come back to bite her in the ass. If Prince Lancer had only been at war with Kazar, Viv would have refused.

The captain was clearly relieved at the end of the discussions, pleased that he had gotten what he had been ordered to obtain. It was more circumstances than his own doing but Viv didn’t feel like telling him as he didn’t look like a bad sort. As they climbed down to the exit, he turned to her with naked sympathy obvious on his honest face.

“Look, you guys are a frontier town. You got lucky with that drill thing but it won’t last. I know that it’s hard to accept but it would really be best for everyone if, when His Highness comes, he only finds open gates and you gone.”

Viv stopped a sneer. He meant well.

“Prince Lancer dragged hundreds of people as slaves for free and you expect me to believe he would behave better after this affront? Is he not a follower of Maranor, the Goddess of Power and Ambition?”

“Well, it’s still the best possible outcome. No offense meant to you or the soldiers under your command.”

They left by the main entrance. Outside, armed guards were holding a cobbler and an older man in the simple garb of a laborer on their knees, blades drawn and at the ready. Viv did not say that those were the two people to sneak out at night to the Enorian camp to give them an intelligence report. There was no need. The captain must have recognized them.

“Have a safe return,” Viv wished him with a smile.

The man hesitated, taken off guard by the appearance of the spies. It took some time before he finally turned around and left.

Viv gave a nod to the guards. The first snowflakes drifted on the plaza, settling on the glacial stone below. Blood soon joined them. Winter had come.