A figure draped in a shawl that shimmered like the night sky sat in an ornate armchair at the top of a tall observation tower. The only other furniture on the platform was a small table with a goblet of wine and a bowl of assorted fruit next to her. While the seated woman had claimed the front of the deck, gathered to her back at the rear of the platform was a cluster of a dozen dark elves, silently attempting to become statues.

  Sighing, the seated figure picked up the goblet and took a sip, then continued to hold it in her hand as her arm settled along the chair's armrest. In a lethargic, slightly disappointed tone, the seated woman said, "Attend me."

  Soft as her voice was, the commanding tone that permeated it cut through the air like the crack of a whip, and the figures to her back jumped forward to gather on either side of the chair in deep bows without blocking her view of the battle in the far distance. "What are your commands, Madam?" Asked the dark elf to the seated one's right in a lilting voice.

  None of those gathered to hear the words of their superior moved, let alone spoke, and the silence pervaded the air for over a minute before it was broken. "It seems," The seated woman began, bringing the cup back to her lips and taking a sip, "that I have overreached in my ambitions. Pull back the males. I can better use their lives elsewhere, as this battle is no longer worth the cost of fighting it. Allow the goblin clans to scatter into the caverns and… be themselves."

  The seated woman waved her hand dismissively when bringing up the savage creatures because once they were cut loose, they would do what she wanted on their own. If there was one thing you could count on a goblin for, it was being a disruptive nuisance. Placing her cup down and picking up a grape, the seated woman rolled it between her fingers as she watched her subordinates.

  Once it was clear she was done talking, the gathered women chorused, "At once, madam," before straightening and sending out the commands through their linked relays.

  After a few moments, the Commandant of the 7th Night Corps spoke again in a chillingly neutral tone, "You disagree, Glevlopa?"

  "I would never be so bold as to question your orders, mistress." The woman standing to the immediate right of seated one said as she dropped into a ninety-degree bow at the waist. "To do so would mean questioning the Matriarch, and her judgment is unquestionable in its foresight."

  The young mistress's lips curled. To call it a smile would imply warmth, amusement, or some other emotion, but the woman projected nothing that could fall into those categories. Her lips moved upward at the edges, no more and no less. “Yes… The Matriarch's judgment is indisputable, but I will explain. What was the task I was given here?"

  "We are to weaken the northeastern border of the Olimpians. While doing so, we are to draw as much attention and focus to the area as possible while making inroads with the lessers." Snapped off Glevlopa while she was still bowed, facing the wooden floor.

  "Yes," Drawled the seated woman, "And to accomplish my task, I was allocated four small goblin clans, a brigade of dregs, a contingent of chevaliers, a handful of night singers, and whatever my personal connections could call on. It is not what most would call a competent force. I suspect one of my sisters expected this to be an expedient way to remove me, but she underestimated my abilities, as I had intended. Regardless, our defeat to the Kin eradicated any long-term plans I might have had for the area. They will fight tooth and claw to deny us a foothold on their southern borders, and I cannot call on the reinforcements required to withstand their attacks. But, even if that wasn't the case, I wouldn't make such a blunder, as any gains here would ultimately be meaningless."

  "That is a sound assessment, Mistress," Glevlopa said. "Holding onto any territory near here for the short term would be impossible."

  "And yet, there is a 'but' in your mind." Stated the seated woman. "I would guess something along the lines of retreating against such a pitiful force would be a disgrace." At that, the commandant paused, letting the silence linger. "I thought so. And you are wrong. If I devote all of my reserves, there is a chance of victory, but only a chance at this point. The Olimpian General played his hand well, and the legionnaires should not be underestimated in a straight fight. By the time I learned of their counterattack, it was already too late. Their Senatorial Guard will smash into the goblin's rear before they can gather enough strength to stop it. With the thrust into the city halted and being pushed back, there is no chance of the goblins taking the fort or exterminating the holdouts throughout the city to create a defensive position. The pressure from all sides will break our hold on the creatures, and they will scatter into the earth. If the Olimpians hadn't disrupted my plans to such a degree, it would be another matter entirely. But— No, those thoughts are unproductive. My task was to create a disturbance, and I have done that. The goblins will continue to be a nuisance in the area for generations, requiring the Republic to station far more troops here than in the past. Not to mention, I caused the destruction of two of their cities. With all the required tasks accomplished, I will not weaken my forces anymore."

  Finally gathering her courage to stand up straight and speak, Glevlopa said, “…Young Mistress, I must ask. Why are you taking the time to explain this to us."

  “Why…" There was amusement in the seated woman's voice, "It's a simple reason, really. When all of you report this situation to whoever is bribing you, they cannot bring this matter to the Matriarch as proof of my incompetence. You all know my reasons and logic. Can you find any fault in it? Speak if you have a strategy to win this battle without unacceptable losses."

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  “I— I— I don’t… know what you are talking about, Madame." Said a suddenly nervous woman at the head of a gaggle of fidgeting females.

  "I'm sure you don't. And I don't know about the discrepancies in tribute or the thralls that have not been reported." Now, the women were visibly shaking in fear, and they had begun to huddle in a clump together as the tension became a physical weight. Bursting out with a ringing laugh, the seated woman popped the grape into her mouth, showing her teeth as she chomped down on it. "You should have seen the looks on your faces… but with all of us not knowing anything, what is there to be worried about?"

  "Yes, Mistress, it is—

  Whipping around, the woman looked toward the city in time to witness a ball of fire blooming into the air to greet the rising sun. With the explosion, thousands of goblins were killed or injured. Feeling the deaths through her mental relays, the seated woman sighed. "It seems that the Kin's relationship with the Olimpians is closer than we would like. This battle is lost. Follow my orders and preserve my best troops."

  The woman leaped into action, releasing a stream of commands through their network, all closely supervised by their commandant sitting at their backs. After the flurry of messages, there was nothing else to do except watch the battle unfold and wait.

  At least, that was as far as issuing orders to the army was concerned. "Now, I believe some guests came seeking us out?"

  "That is correct, Mistress." Responded Glevlopa, who had regained most of her composure. "The nobles came into contact with some of our pawns in the city, and that led them to a night singer who showed them the futility of their struggle. They were shown the strength of the Matriarch and her armies and came to a rational conclusion of joining the winning side."

  "What assistance are they able to provide? I will not accept anyone under my banner who cannot provide benefit."

  "Themselves? Little to nothing. But their families are a different matter. Each of them had estates inside their capital, and with personally written letters of introduction, we can arrange a meeting with their family heads. They are confident that if we show them the reality of their situation, they will support us."

  The lips of the seated woman unnaturally twisted with genuine pleasure, causing those around her to flinch in fear as she purred, "Excellent."

  **********

  Augustas Frigia stood with his back straight as a marble column. His shoulders were thrown back, and his head held high. If someone wasn't paying attention, they would miss the blood dripping from his right hand clasped at the small of his back.

  The blood wasn't from a battle injury, though there were half a dozen other such wounds bandaged across his body. No, the blood dripping onto the ground originated from his fingernails digging into his palm. Augustas was furious.

  If he loosened the control of his body even the slightest amount, he would start shaking from the wrath seething inside of him. Part of his rage was at the Republic for abandoning them. Another was at the dark elves and beastkin. But, if he was honest, most of his rage was directed at himself.

  At the end of the day, he had failed. He had grown complacent with his duties. Basetown's walls hadn't seen a battle in centuries, although their forts saw fighting yearly. Even when the Triad's walls were breached, he wasn't overly concerned.

  His ancestors had made Basetown into an unassailable fortress. The walls, while not impressive individually, had layer after layer as they traveled up streets that switchbacked up a once-sheer-mountainside. Along the way were terraces filled with crops and fresh water.

  So long as there were people to man the walls, the city should have never fallen… Yet, within a single night, the city was taken with hardly a fight. It happened through betrayal and subterfuge, but it still happened. Those closest to him, whom he thought were loyal, sold him and his city out to the cursed dark elves. It was only through the sacrifice of his personal guard that he escaped what should have been an ambush that claimed his life.

  Instead, it only took the lives of his two youngest sons… if you could define such a loss as only. But he lived, and he would not die until he took every last one of the bastards he could with him. Augustus didn't know where the monsters came from, but he would find out in time. He knew that much.

  While hiding in the sewers and then nearby mountains, he tried to get the word out and stir up the population that they were being lied to, that a silent purge was taking place, and that he had been overthrown. There were so many blatant details they were missing, as they happened right before their eyes. Like the foreign army camped outside the walls.

  Every time he had an in-person meeting with a citizen, it was like the fog was lifted from their eyes, and they were easy to convince that something was wrong. But soon after, and more importantly, before they could muster their strength to join the fight, the individuals disappeared or were killed. And he would have to start over but with one less ally.

  It quickly became clear he was dealing with reavers and that while he was able to gather a cohort, it was utterly outmatched. So he resigned himself to moving into the mountains and finding a passage to Olimpia to report what had happened personally, but the dark elves suddenly disappeared one night.

  But before he could reclaim his control of Basetown, the beastkins showed up. These ones looked different from the typical ones and could speak, but they were unmistakably of the same ilk as their mindless brethren. Though if anything, these creatures were worse, as their cruelty and barbarism were intentional, which was perfectly encapsulated in the abominations they controlled being the stuff of nightmares.

  What looked like the constructs of knights but were made up of blood and flesh slurped forward and overwhelmed the confused defenders on the walls. Augustas tried to march his militia cohort and remnants of the 13th Legion to stop their advance, but by the time they arrived, they were already over the first walls and harvesting the fleeing residents. And then they continued into the city.

  With every block, there were more bodies to feed the abominations. More of his people to use.

  Augustas tried to save who he could. But out of a city with hundred-thirty-four thousand, only ten thousand were marching up the mountain path below him. Most of those were civilians. Far in the distance, he could make out a mountain he knew held his city's ruin. A ruin that was the grave of his youngest sons, along with so many more.

  He would come back. He would repay this debt.

  But first, he would guide his people through the Weeping Mountains. When he arrived before the senate, he will make them understand the threat before forcing them to act accordingly.