Argrave gazed up at the towering black rock dominating all of his vision. Their darkness gave the impression that one might find a gaping hole at the top of these rocks that led down into pits of magma. Despite that appearance, they weren’t volcanic rocks, Argrave knew. And their party, numbering over one thousand, headed for a new addition on the face of these rocks—a fortress.
The travel had been at a brisk pace the whole four days. It had felt natural to be travelling again—Argrave and Anneliese donned their enchanted leather gear from Jast once more, wearing the more breathable black set from their journey in the Burnt Desert. Nothing felt better than finally getting the opportunity to get out. Elenore handled things every bit as well as he did—figurehead was the best descriptor for him.
The troops Relize offered were not cavalry. Instead, they were footmen, one and all. The only horsemen were Argrave’s companions and his royal guard. He didn’t like being on horseback while others walked, and that feeling did not fade throughout the whole journey.
One of Leopold’s sons, Vittan Dandalan, led the footmen. Anneliese had assured Argrave of his loyalty to his father and their cause. It was vitally important that whoever held this particular fortification was loyal; both the leader and the troops were sourced only from Dandalan’s ties. Passing by, Argrave could see castles he knew belonged to central Vasquer, ostensibly their enemy. It was unnerving, but their days passed without so much as a skirmish.
Argrave had a rather strong image of the fortress he would be seeing in the Indanus Divide. The preconception came from ‘Heroes of Berendar.’ He had, rather uncreatively, chosen a location he’d already used in the game. He was intimately familiar with this place and its strategic importance. But the fortress that had been built in the past month… it was both entirely unfamiliar and completely astonishing. It was difficult to picture something of this scale being built in one month.
From this side, the fortress seemed an impenetrable wall of enchanted black brick a shade darker than the rocky mountain it protruded from. Its walls were half an octagon nestled up against the mountain, and their polish surface gleamed like metal against the sunlight. It seemed as tall as the walls of Dirracha—the only fortifications he could recall being taller were those at Mateth, Sethia, or the Lionsun Castle. Angular bastions protruded from the four corners of the wall.
Parapets lined the whole of it, with some artistic flair the same as he’d seen at Relize. This had been built and enchanted by their architects, after all. Altogether, this place reminded Argrave somewhat of the ruined fortifications before the Low Way of the Rose… yet these were intact, and their walls far taller. The sole entrance was a doorway of enchanted stone probably twelve feet tall—a doorway that opened as they approached.
“Rather wondrous,” Anneliese said to him as he gazed upon the structure ahead.
“I’d…” Argrave turned away, looking at her as she smiled broadly. He couldn’t bring himself to disagree.
As Argrave watched, black banners unfurled down the bastions, revealing a flag with his gold sun-and-snake heraldry on it. The past month at Relize, with Argrave being called Your Majesty and planning out his strategy for a war… nothing had ever struck home his newfound status so much as seeing this fortification. He had ordered it built, and so it was. Now, his banner swayed in the wind, lowered by men sworn to him.
Anneliese leaned off her horse and grabbed his wrist, and he looked over in surprise. “Remember what you said, Argrave, when I was worried about what we were to become, the path we headed down? I think you need to remember those words. Diligence, intent, and wisdom.”
Argrave chuckled. He hadn’t realized it himself, but panic had been rising in his chest as he realized the responsibility he now had. Her words were like a needle to that balloon, popping it before it could do real harm. When she had worried about being queen, he told her that those three traits were the most important.
“Yeah,” Argrave agreed, looking towards the structure once again. “My own advice turned against me. Do as I say, not as I do, huh? Let’s go meet Melan, get a tour of this place…”
#####
Melan Wratson, S-rank spellcaster and ancient vampire, escorted Argrave through the fortress with his hands behind his back. Galamon stayed near him, hand hovering near the Ebonice weapons. Indeed, all of the royal guard were suitably alert.
“The architects complained a great deal about this duty assigned to them, but I believe they relished the challenge. The place was well-chosen, and the stone from the mountain sturdy as can be,” Melan explained, his stride quick. “Creating a stable tunnel through one hundred feet of stone with a bridge near three times the length on the other side, ensuring the integrity of the mountain above, and making a fortress fit to resist a military assault on one end… well, it was much to ask, Your Majesty. Their earth-working magic was pushed to its limits.”
Argrave looked around the vast courtyard of this fortress. The architects had set up tents as they built this place, and now, the garrison set up theirs. Beyond, there was a great tunnel bored into the mountain that could accommodate large wagons and carriages. There were some apartments built into the side of the mountain, plus a central apartment built directly above the tunnel that offered a view of the whole place.
“It’s excellent,” Argrave decided. “Though a bit… fanciful at places. Nothing they did will compromise the integrity of the defenses?”
“The architects have worked at Relize, Your Majesty. They’re used to building fancifully. I oversaw the process and tested many of their enchantments with spells of my own. They held up,” Melan nodded. “Many of them were inspired by this project and worked harder than they typically might. Moreover, this black stone… as you said, it works well with earth magic. They could shape it easier than anything they ever had before. I wonder how Your Majesty knew of that,” Melan wondered, looking about.
Argrave nodded, ignoring Melan’s curiosity as he said, “Good. That apartment above the tunnel, carved into the stone—the commander’s apartment?”
“Correct, Your Majesty,” the blonde vampire nodded.
“And… I received news you found the structure I spoke about within the mountain,” Argrave nodded. “It’s ready for us?”
“It is,” Melan nodded. “The architects were utterly puzzled by it. Not Order of the Rose architecture, not old elven ruins… they had never seen anything like it.”
Argrave smiled. “I should hope not, elsewise what’s within might have escaped long ago.”
Melan cocked his head curiously but did not ask questions on the matter. “On the other side, where the bridge spans the valley… there’s a fishing settlement downhill. They’ve been antsy about the construction work.”
“I know of the village. Wurthen, the place is called,” Argrave nodded.
“I cannot confirm that, as we’ve had little interaction with the locals. Just informing you of their presence, Your Majesty.” The blonde vampire stepped forward, and Galamon stepped in front of him threateningly. Melan kept his hands behind his back, green eyes sharp as he asked, “So, Your Majesty… my duty… can I consider it over and done, or do you have more to ask of me and my family?”
Argrave shook his head. “You gave spellcasters to the war effort, you guarded these architects, and you helped me back at Relize with those terrible, no-good vampires,” he said somewhat facetiously. “You’ve done more than your part,” he concluded.
Melan stood for a long while, eyes hovering near the Ebonice axe at Galamon’s waist. “…it puts me ill at ease that someone knows the Wratsons as intimately as you do. How can I be sure my family is not… put upon, in the future?”
“So long as the people of Relize are never ‘put upon,’ I see no reason to get involved,” Argrave informed him smoothly. “That said… if you feel Relize to be unwelcoming, or if you feel better opportunities exist elsewhere, you might simply leave.”
Melan’s green eyes stared at Argrave. Then, slowly, he gave an acquiescent nod. “I will return to Relize with the architects with your leave, Your Majesty.”
“Safe travels,” Argrave nodded.
With that, Melan disentangled from Galamon and the royal guard, and made for the tents in the far distance.
“Keep a close eye,” Galamon informed the royal guard. “Especially during the night.”
The knights returned with an affirmation and a respectful call of ‘sir’ in a multitude of ways.
“So, this is to be a hub for our future activities?” Anneliese asked.
Argrave gave a slow nod, eyes lingering on the distant entrance to the tunnel. “Let’s go check out the other side.”
#####
The whole of the tunnel had been embedded with magic lights from Relize, illuminating it all with faint blue light. Argrave made sure that Vittan Dandalan set to work establishing the garrison at the fortress, and then travelled with his guard to the other side of the mountain. Once there, a bridge of black stone awaited them. This bridge stretched over a long valley that housed a powerful river down below.
Beyond this bridge, a great and beautiful vale stretched out as far as the eye could see. It was like a little pocket of nature largely untouched by human hands. It sported bright green grass, beautiful wildflowers, and the occasional tree popping up out of the ground. Rocky mountains thousands of feet tall surrounded it on all sides, some rivers cutting through the land. To the right—east, by Argrave’s memory—the elevation decreased steadily until the land melted away in way of a coast. There, civilization made itself apparent. A small road cut through the land, emerging from an opening in the surrounding mountains. This road led to the coastal fishing settlement Melan had described.
“This is your Blackgard,” Anneliese said.
Argrave turned. Her grin was so broad he could not bring himself to feign ignorance. “Yes,” he admitted, regretting having ever disclosed that. “Yes, it is.”
“Well-protected on all sides by these mountains… one of the largest rivers I have ever beheld… yet no agriculture,” she wondered.
“Most of the rivers in Vasquer converge a little bit upstream,” he said, looking left down the valley, where the river flowed for miles. Argrave stepped off the bridge. “As for farming… the soil is nonarable.”
“But…” Anneliese said, brows furrowed in confusion.
“I know—the grass, the flowers, they seem to refute that.” Argrave turned, letting the wind blow across his face. “It’s all poison. Even if you uproot it, plant wheat or other crops… it never grows. The villagers live off fish alone. It’s why the place is so small, population-wise.” Argrave stepped through the grass. “This place is in the center of Vasquer. With the bridge and the tunnel, it now connects north and south, opening up its potential as a hub of trade. The soil… it’s only conventionally nonarable.” Argrave took a breath. “We fortify the valley that holds the road, over there…” Argrave pointed to the road leading to the village of Wurthen. “It’s practically designed to hold out against armies. Or hordes of foul monsters.”
Some of the royal knights looked at Argrave strangely, and he quickly silenced himself. As ever, he felt burdened by their presence.
“Everything’s in order,” Argrave decided, mood soured somewhat. “Let’s go see this structure the architects unearthed.”
#####
Argrave stared upwards at a great slab of stone. The architects had revealed much of it with their magic, yet none of the sleek stone structure itself had been changed. In stark contrast to the dark stone surrounding them, the stone before them was light gray—nearly white. It reminded Argrave of concrete. There was a metal door at the front of it. It depicted a red crescent room and two bright stars opposite it—the suns. It was quite a small door, barely six feet tall.
“This is it,” Argrave nodded.
“What is it, Your Majesty?” one of his royal knights asked, unable to restrain their curiosity.
“A reception room of sorts,” Argrave said ponderously. “And also the place where Anneliese might begin to go far, far ahead of me in the race of magical prowess.”
