Infinite Realm: Monsters & Legends

Interlude - Deals

Deals

King Peleous, formerly of the Ulum Kingdom, and now a simple vassal of the Exalted Empire, sat at the table in his bedroom. Before him were the latest demands—or rather, instructions—from the Exalted Empire. Their offensive against the Sects had already started to exert pressure on his small faction, and it had barely started. Supplies had to flow, and he had to provide resources that he could barely afford to part with.

Peleous didn’t know how much his people would take. Already there was unrest regarding their new overlords and the laws that they put into place. He could hardly afford to push his people anymore.

The tablet clinked under Peleous's trembling fingers. He traced the elegant inscription. “More food,” he muttered, “more metal, more men for logistical support and... For land bound armies.”

He knew what that meant. The Exalted Empire’s troops fought in their flying vessels, they operated long range weaponry, fought with rifles and arrays. They needed meat shields to keep the Sect warriors from reaching them and nullifying their advantage.

He rose, pacing the worn rug that covered the stone floor. The room, once a symbol of his power, now felt like a gilded cage. The Exalted Empire, in their grand, sweeping strategy, saw his lands as a mere cog in their war machine. They didn’t see the struggling farmers, the dwindling herds, the silent resentment that simmered beneath the surface of his people. Those things didn’t matter to the cthul.

He stopped, his gaze falling on the window, where the last rays of the setting sun painted the distant mountains in hues of blood orange. “We’re too close,” he whispered. “Too close to the Sect borders.”

He knew better than to hope that the Empire’s war will not reach him. His kingdom had been on the border with the Sects for a long time. He knew them better. The Sects will respond, and his people would suffer.

But there wasn’t much that he could do. His eyes rose to the great shadow hovering above his city. A floating mountain of death. One of the Empire’s ziggurats, or stations as they more often called them. Its metal surface gleamed in the setting sun, its turrets ready to lay waste to his city. It was a reminder of their rule, an instrument that instilled fear in the hearts of his people more than even the enforcer units that patrolled his streets, enforcing their laws.

The Exalted Empire had so much power, to even think to defy them was to spell doom for everyone that Peleous was supposed to protect. There wasn’t anything that he could do but obey. His griffin riders could barely match the Empire’s small mechs, let alone their giant war vessels. Perhaps three of his riders were powerful enough to be able to fight such things on a near equal footing. Not enough, not nearly enough. He couldn’t even try and compare his armies. His knights… It wasn’t even worth entertaining, no matter what his nobles tried to whisper in his ears. Their ideas would never work. The faster they came to terms with their fate the faster they would be able to make the best out of their new reality.

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Peleous shook his head and turned around, then nearly stumbled. The shadows around his bed rippled, and then a figure stepped out. He reached for his perks and then froze. He recognized the person who stood in front of him now. He could feel the oppressive power he wielded even without it being projected.

He wore a form fitting armor with long cracks on its surface that seemed like they had been repaired and filled in. There wasn’t any real sensation coming off of him, it was as if he wasn’t even there. That much control only told him just how dangerous he was.

“King Peleous,” the intruder actually bowed his head toward him.

“Warden,” Peleous greeted back. He had seen the man during the war in the core, against the Dome Monsters. Had seen him during the clean up, had heard of his keeping the Herald of the Machine and the Undying Void at bay, forcing them to keep the peace. He hadn’t ever spoken to him, Peleous wasn’t important enough to actually be included in any big discussions, but he had seen him from a distance when he attended the talks concerning the Domes.

He wondered why he was here.

“I have a proposition for you,” the Warden, Zacharia Gardner said. “If you are willing to listen.”

His tone suggested that it was an offer he could refuse, but Peleous had been around those more powerful than him long enough to know that he didn’t really have a choice.

“I’m listening.”

The ocean was calm, the devoid of almost any waves. The fleet anchored just off the shore of the giant island speckled the emerald surface, ships of all kinds were present. Some made of wood, with giant white sails neatly folded, others looking more organic, like shells of some giant underwater creatures. The ships were all of different sizes, but one dwarfed them all.

A giant dreadnought of metal, looking more like it was some terrible instrument of war than a vessel intended to sail across the surface of rivers, seas, and oceans.

Dracael Brownscale stood on the prow of her ship looking out at the airship approaching her fleet. She had gotten a message days ago, and had to delay the departure of her fleet in order to make this meeting. Which, while annoying, wasn’t the end of the world. At least they were anchored just off the shore of the Isle of Dungeons, which gave the crews something to do. There were a couple underwater dungeons along the coast which were suitable for the kreacean among her fleet.

And if she was being honest, they deserved the extra rest. They had just returned from dealing with a Dome in the middle of the Ocean, and the battle had lasted for three days and had turned the Ocean black with blood and other fluids as far as the eye could see. The morale was also a bit… down. One of her ships decided to try and enter the glowing portal at the structure at the center of the Dome, and hadn’t returned. Which they had known was a risk. A few other factions had attempted the same, and no group that had entered through any of the Dome gates had returned.

A few thought that there were some time shenanigans at play, others just thought that it was an incredibly difficult challenge and that people that went in just died.

Whatever the truth was, she wasn’t going to risk entering it until someone else managed to return. She didn’t have a death wish.

She looked ahead, and narrowed her eyes as the airship landed on top the landing pad of her ship. She made her way over to greet her visitors.

Zacharia Gardner and his partner, Nahamassa walked down the ramp of their airship while Dracael’s First Mate, Umon, greeted them.

She walked up and stared at the two of them with narrowed eyes.

“You better not be here trying to drag me into shit again,” Dracael said before either of them had the chance to speak.

“Well,” Zacharia glanced at Nahamassa. “That depends on what you consider “shit”?”

Dracael raised her head and then sighed. “Of fucking course. I just know that you’ll want something insane like me fighting in another war.”

She saw his reaction. “Annndddd, I’m right. Great. C’mon then, let’s head to my office where you can try to convince me.”

She should’ve sailed out on the ocean and never came back to the bullshit of asshole High Rankers again.