Regarding Brikstrat.

A dark alleyway. Most people stay away from places between houses, stay at the main road instead unless they want to take a shortcut. Even then they would not do that at night. Individuals that are more unsavoury however strive in the gaps between the blocks as they provide them with what little cover streets can offer.

Alratha presses against the corner and waits. Under the facemask her mouth is contorted into a wide grin, her trademark more or less. She feels the urge to laugh at the thieves as spies of the males that stalk through the night. Their movements just seem so clunky to her, their steps heavy, their eyes untrained. The broken rips in her chest still hurt but the pain doesn’t impact her much as she hushes to the next corner as the spy she is currently stalking turns his back towards her.

The whole outer circle is humming with joyful anticipation and fear, a mixture of emotions possible only before a dive into uncertainty. The spy turns a corner. Alratha ponders about what to do for a moment before quickly grabbing an uneven piece of wood that sticks out of the houses walls and pulls herself upwards. Left hand at the window frame now in her reach, feet on the piece of wood, kicking herself of the wall to jump at the window across the alleyway, from there she can pull herself up the roof. She jumps back on the original house and looks down into the street the spy had walked into.

As she suspected the spy is standing at the corner, a knife in hand ready to kill anyone who would follow him. Alratha has to suppress another chuckle, humans really rarely looked upwards. The spy waits for another minute before continuing to walk. Alratha follows him over the rooftops, always careful to not enter even his outer field of vision.

Finally the man enters a longhouse. It is slightly more luxurious than others, which basically just means that it has actual windows instead of wooden shields. The quality of the walls however is just as bad as with the rest of the outer ring. As such all Alratha has to do is climb back down and press her ear against the thin wall to listen to the conversation.

“Any news from Meltzer?” A deep voice asks. Alratha assumes that the spy shakes his head at that as it soon is followed up by. “Dammit. It has been over a week already.” ‘So, the contact broke after he was summoned to the summoning.’ Alratha makes a mental note. “He should explain to me what that city is. The way he describes his master he surely has something to do with this.” “If you say so, Bred.” Another voice says, is it the spy or a third person? Alratha wants to peek through the window to find out, but deems it too risky. At least she got a name.

“Does it matter that he is gone?” The new voice asks. “We already have most of the men on our side, Meltzer has made sure that the cities corn chambers are empty. Even when he is not here, our preparations are complete. We should attack.” Silence, people are thinking. “I support that.” A third voice says, “Yeah, me too.” A fourth one. “Then it is decided.” Bred says, “We will attack the city in two days. Remember to stick to the plan: No actual attacks, we will hunger them out.”

Indeed, if they do it like that they are sure to win. Even though they are untrained and unarmed the rebels have a simple strategic advantage: They live in the outer circle. If they all turn as one their whole village will turn into a tight siege ring and with the food reserves gone the city stands no chance. Even with a considerably better-trained force they cannot beat the sheer numbers of the men and hope to hold the liberated street afterwards.

“What will we do regarding the governess? She is still in the city.” “Just one cunt of many after we are done with this.” Bred dismisses that thought. “Don’t worry about her. I advise you to get a goodnights rest now, spread the word and get everyone ready. We will meet once more tomorrow.” Chairs are pushed back as people rise up.

“And that was my que to leave.” Alratha ends her report to the council. “Any questions?” “Why would you tell us that you needed to laugh?” Tarzana asks, Alratha chuckles and makes a pirouette. “Why not?”

“Ignoring your brain damage.” Ulal chimes in. “A job well done. The spine seems to work.” Alratha nods eagerly “Oh it works, it works goooood.” “Another theory affirmed.” Aclysia says her finger running along one of the cracks in the table. Glenn raises his hand. “You are equal here. Well, in rank at least, just speak.” Ulal muses and generously gestures towards the nervous man.

“Yes, ehm, so –“He clears his throat to gather some confidence. “What is our course of action now?” Ulal crosses his arms and thinks for a second. “We clearly can’t get on the side of the rebels. Their views contradict the vision I have for this city. If we help the city now however we are simply holding status quo and although we might get some thanks for that I doubt that Estara will recognize our independence on their lands for such a minor favour.”

Ulal taps his left arm with the index finger of his right hand a few times. “The best thing we can do is wait. Once the males win the siege we will intervene.” “Suggesting that no relief force breaks the siege beforehand.” Catherine says. “If that happens we will ally with the men and try to wrestle at least something out of the situation.” Ulal smiles, “It might take a few generations but I can re-educate their descendants. Right now the most important thing is to get a population and although setbacks on the cultural front are annoying they are preferable to annihilation.”

Everyone on the table nods. “I want to bring up another matter, Lord Ulal.” Glenn says. Ulal clicks his tongue disapprovingly, “I already told you, we are equal in rank here. As long as there is no public to address Ulal will suffice.” Glenn is surprised by the Demonmagus casual attitude, but gladly takes the invitation. “Ulal then. This morning a small group of males entered the city. They were malnourished so we gave them food first but I was sure you would want to speak to them. They wait outside.”

That is good news, every bit of new human material is progress in Ulal’s current situation. “Great, send them in.” A bit later five men stand at the south end of the table. “Who speaks for you?” Ulal asks. A blonde man answers the call. He is big, very big. Not quite as big as Ulric, for sure, but he reaches around two metres. The others around him are of similar, but not as impressive build. His blue eyes are hard but respectful as they cross Ulal’s.

“I do.” He says shortly. “Tang.” “Tang, where do you come from?” “Brikstrat.” ‘Not a very talkactive guy.’ Ulal thinks a bit annoyed. “What brings you into my city?” “Desperation.” “Care to elaborate?” Tang looks around, the marble table, the obsidian walls, the steel runes. “I was a farmer. Followed orders. Always felt unfulfilled in my work. I want to fight. Estara wouldn’t let me so I seek somebody else to work for. I seek change.” Tang looks back at Ulal, “Are you change?”

Their gazes remain interlocked, both studying each other. What Ulal sees is both the ultimate dream of Estara and the absolute nightmare. An obedient male person, bent on following orders but at the same time big, burly and with a lust for battle. On the other side Tang sees potential. A being undescribed that could allow him to finally find strength.

“Do you know of the Tale of the Hundred?” Ulal asks a seemingly unrelated question. “Can’t read. Only work and follow orders.” Tang answers. Ulal smiles, he likes telling dramatic stories. “The Tale of the Hundred is one of the bases for military propaganda in smaller nations. In the unifications wars there was a small nation to the north-west. It is a harsh piece of land and those were harsher times and as such the few people that lived in that nation had a very disciplined way of life, a society that could be described as an army with a state rather than a state with an army. The core army of this nation was the fabled One Hundred. When Estara attacked this small nation they sent an army of two thousand, including a good chunk of cavalry, to deal with this army, so big was their respect for them.

The One Hundred were inferior in almost all aspects, number, equipment, rations, horses, but they followed orders with absolute discipline and never once stood down. They won that battle. Although Estara crushed them at the second attempt the Tale of the Hundred shows that a much smaller more disciplined army can win against a larger one. What do you think of that, Tang?”

“There are people that are always smarter. Makes sense to obey them.” Ulal grins widely. “The One Hundred were all female but I want to build an army built on the same ideals. Discipline, Order, Valour. Does that sound good to you?” Tang nods, his expression still stoic, “Then I invite you to be the first of my new army. I want to warn you though.”

Ulal’s smile becomes sinister, a shadow casting over his eyes. “A normal human can’t measure up to the standards I will have for my elite. I will have to…augment you.” Aclysia and Ulal exchange a side glance. “I don’t care.” The lack of caution surprises Ulal. “You made a city. Fighting for you is a good deal. Give me your name and I will swear fealty to you.”

“I am Lord-Regent Ulal of the bended City, Ultopja.” Tang takes the knee, his companion follow suit. “We will follow you, Lord-Regent Ulal.” Ulal claps his hand together, metal rattles as the gauntlet shakes a bit from the impacts. “Great. Wait outside, Aclysia and I will get you once the council meeting is over.”

Tang and his people stand up and leave the room. “Ultopja?” Catherine asks once they have left, “You don’t like it?” Ulal asks, “I took Utopia and put my spin on it. Has a nice ring I think.” “Of course, you megalomaniac.” Catherine sighs and massages her forehead. “Like you wouldn’t have called your city Cathelopolis or something like that.” Alratha laughs. “Why are you even still here?” “Quiet, Tarzana Town.” The assassin shuts down the cult leader with another stupid nickname. “Just to get through with all of you.” She points at Glenn, “Glennvile.” Then at Aclysia, “Alysium.”

“I would rather know the answer to Tarzana’s question.” Ulal says his voice slightly pissed at everyone seemingly not taking the glorious name for his city serious. “Oh, I have something I wanted to ask. What is Vakanth?”

The name sends a shiver down Ulal’s spine, images well up, forty-two Wings, twenty axes, commands he can’t disobey, demons getting purged from existence by white fire. He puts his gauntleted hand at his head as if to push against the sudden headache that Jalkal’s memories summons. “Where did you hear that name?” He asks. “Some men in Brikstrat were talking about their new religion. As a follower of Saeletra I am deeply amused by their heresy.”

Ulal can’t make sense of the images yet, he will have to dig through the Demonlords memories but this much is sure: One of his past lives knows that name. However he has other things to worry about now. “Return to Brikstrat and keep an eye on their progress, also find out things about this new religion while you are at it. Anything else?” Ulal looks at the other people on the table each shake their head, “Then you are dismissed, you can find me and Aclysia in the laboratory.”

“You are absolutely certain we need this much?” Ulal asks and looks at the mark on the Dragonbone as he holds the bone saw. He is about to saw of a ten centimetre thick piece of the metre that is left of the bone. “Numbers don’t lie.” Aclysia says with a bit uncharacteristic impatience in her melancholic voice. “But Alratha died from a thumb big piece.” “Flesh is weak. Also I need to boil the bone down to the essence before I can press it into paper.”

“It is so much though.” Ulal says unwillingly, “You know what a hassle it was to get this?” “You told me.” “Indeed I did. I got stabbed to get that thing. STABBED! Through the stomach. Afterwards a giant carried me like a sack of potatoes. The torture of getting talked down on each day on that ship as well. To this day I haven’t revenge fucked that knight and it is driving me insane.”

“You are side-tracking.” Aclysia says, “Your hesitation pushes back progress. Saw of that bone.” “Maybe all of this was a bad idea. I mean we could make thousands of super soldiers like Alratha with this stuff instead.” Ulal whines, “The chances of finding thousands capable of surviving having Dragonbone inside them are miniscule. Additionally you would have a society made up almost entirely of soldiers. Not feasible.”

“But…” “Ulal.” Aclysia interrupts him, “The theory holds, the production is locally possible, the materials accessible and the calculations complete. You either continue you the project or I will leave this city and search for somebody with more ambition.” Ulal sighs and mumbles, “Okay, okay.” As he starts sawing.

Fine bone dust lands in a container below the Dragonbone, not a single bit of the valuable material to be wasted. The bone is very dense, it takes a while to get through but eventually the last bit of the bone gives in, and two parts fall into the container. Ulal bends down and grabs both of them. He looks at the smaller, ten-centimetre thick piece with some regret as he hands Aclysia the rest. “I will have to equip one hundred people with just this.” He says and unhappily looks as Aclysia walks off with the other nine tenths of his most valuable resource. “It is enough, we calculated this.” Aclysia says with a smile as she arrives at her alchemy table.

A network of glass pipes and flasks, combining and then dividing liquids of all sorts of colours and viscosity in a series of aggregate phase changes stands on top of the table. Magical pumps, coolers and heaters quickening or slowing down the liquids that all come together in a glass that holds several litres of a black liquid power the whole apparatus. Ulal knows what comes next and he is almost unwilling to watch as Aclysia puts the Dragonbone into the glass. The innermost part of a legendary creature slain by unknown sacrifices and conserved through the ages melds inside the highly acidic liquid in a matter of seconds. Most of the liquid turns white but a black layer remains at the bottom.

“Exactly as calculated.” Aclysia says as she checks the engraved measurements on the side of the glass. “Yes.” Ulal says and makes a mental note to hide the last bit of Dragonbone somewhere far away from the alchemist, “Exactly as calculated. How long will you need to make paper out of that?” Aclysia deactivates the alchemical apparatus. “I will need to get rid of the remaining acidity, then I need to enrich it with suitable biomass, oak most likely, drain excess liquid and then restart the whole process until I have arrived at a suitable purity level of magical essence. Two months, maybe three.”

Ulal sighs, “I designed the Grimoire so I know that it is worth it but really, where am I supposed to get another Dragonbone? They are not exactly easy to find. What I wouldn’t give to find a Dragon graveyard.”

Images flash up again. The pain of being burned alive runs over his body and then vanishes. “Another flashback?” Aclysia asks. “Yes, the fourth one. What is Vakanth? I need to find out sooner rather than later.” He turns to leave. “You continue this, I need to talk to Alratha and my five new recruits.”