Его не звали, но он приперся / They never called, yet he is here: Пролог

1111Империя - Веков.

Prologue
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Camrad_RIP 17.02.23 в 08:51

Outpost number twenty-eight, known among the imperial frontier guards as Yelny, resembled an old and worn-out mercenary who had long since lost his youth, having been replaced by many scars and fractures. Strength is no longer the same, hair has long grayed, badly healed bones sometimes break, and the swiftness of youth remained only in the memory of bygone days. But it would be foolish to view such a foe as weak and frail, for instead of speed came great experience, and hundreds of battles have accustomed him to facing a wide variety of foes.

Camrad_RIP 17.02.23 в 08:52

This fort was just that - tattered but strong walls, outdated but still mighty and regularly updated defenses, and, most importantly, a large contingent of warriors who might not be elite but had long since reached the bar of veterans. Such has been sent to these (or other, similar) places precisely in the hope that they can cross the next bar. There was no tolerance for carelessness or sloppy service here, for there was indeed a lot of warfare.

Camrad_RIP 17.02.23 в 08:53

Being on the very frontier of the Empire, right next to the wilderness, where the worst was about to break out, demanded a great deal of skill and readiness. The rest, whether they were not diligent, lucky, strong, or simply unprepared, could not survive in these conditions. The fort had been taken several times, but the last capture and burning were a long time ago. The fort was rebuilt not as a pitiful hut but as a mighty fortress able to hold a regular garrison. In general, Emperor Pavian the Fortificator liked to build forts, castles, fortifications, and who knows what else. Evil tongues even said that his mother was cheating on her husband with someone from the mountain folk, and so was the boy, showing incredible talents in engineering, similar to a half-dwarf who tried to make it look like a man through the magic of Life and Alchemicals.

Camrad_RIP 17.02.23 в 08:56

The talk was whispered, but not for long, for Stefal the Radiant was not officially an Empress, but she had kept her husband under her thumb all his life. I can't say that her husband was happy about it, but that's another story and one that no seminary will ever tell. You would have to go into the archives, and that is also a risky business. To condemn a supposedly unfaithful wife (for some reason, Hrothgar of Basalt had to send his hirds to help in the final battle with Alishan Khanate) can be long, but only in mind.

Camrad_RIP 17.02.23 в 08:58

But her son was beloved even now, especially by those same frontiersmen for whom normal fortifications along the usual routes of savage hordes had long been synonymous with life. The last raid - surprisingly not by orcs and goblins but by mountain giants and mountain trolls - was repelled by these walls only six years ago, so the health of one of the great Emperors of the past was never forgotten within these walls over a drink.

Camrad_RIP 18.02.23 в 18:35

The location was both fortunate and unfortunate, and on all sides remained so... ambiguous. The area would have been a waste of the Empire of the Ages had it not been for a very rare find made by one of the old expeditions. The territory itself, like a long sausage crawling from the main borders of the state and creeping up into the wilderness, resembled a long corridor. On either side this sausage - the name is firmly entrenched in folklore, and Count Vzdryzhnevsky, whose name this piece of Alurei was named after, has long been forgotten by all but gray-haired scholars - was surrounded by two mountain ranges. Uncomplicated mathematics allowed one to understand a simple truth - one could pass either from the Empire to the Wildlands, or already from the Frontier to the Empire. And if the ruler did not want to meet regular raids in his fiefdom, it was necessary to take control of either the whole place in one piece, or at least the entrances and exits of the tract.

Camrad_RIP 20.02.23 в 11:46

Initially, no one was going to take over the whole sausage. There were other areas where the Emperors needed (and could!) expand their borders. Put a strong fort in the area where the sausage "enters" the home state, and forget about it. Regular problems with monsters are a trifle amidst the conflict with Alishan and Amun, really. Fortunately, or unfortunately, reasons have been found to take control of this no-man's-land in a much tighter way.

Camrad_RIP 20.02.23 в 11:48

Around the center of the Vzdryžněžský Tract, there was a well-protected and even more thoroughly camouflaged base that served as a research and extraction centre. It was there that one of the few maatite veins in the world was exposed. The ingredient of the legendary grade is useful on its own, but the phase diamond crystals found among the deposits of the blood-red metal were of a mythical grade. So they had to take it before 0thers took it away.

Camrad_RIP 20.02.23 в 11:51

Very few people knew about this place, and there were only two in the entire Outpost Twenty-Eight. One of the primary resources for Summoning, the creation of legendary enhancement potions and permanent boosters, as well as a fabulously expensive and equally high-quality store of neutral magic, was mined in an atmosphere of mystery and paranoia. The lode was approached and departed by the portal, and only carefully vetted miners and jewelers were allowed to mine. The portal was used by workers and staff to leave the mine, lost deep underground, with no access to the surface at all, save for a couple of air ducts carefully disguised as natural crevices.

Camrad_RIP 20.02.23 в 11:53

Protecting a stable source of legendary and mythical reagents required something far more formidable than a garrison of Yelny, but the mystery was a far greater protection. After all, the dwelling was in the direct possession of the Imperial family, and there they were careful to ensure that knowledge did not escape. Too strong, a disproportionately powerful army at the entrance to the tract would cause a lot of emotion in the Seers of a likely enemy.

Camrad_RIP 20.02.23 в 11:54

The garrison had no idea why they were sitting out in the cold, risking an arrow in the ass, guarding a place where there weren't even any normal settlements. A dozen or so small villages, gathering and hunting, and one small town, with a similarly modest garrison, were all that could be found here. Most likely, a horde that broke through Yelny would have been very surprised by the lack of prey and fabulously offended. On the few times they'd managed to do so, their faces had been very colorful, according to the records of the huntsmen who had fished out the monsters that had broken through. Even the goblins were largely absent here, for the fierce beasts that plagued the tract, gobbling up low-level goblins without delay. The environment was aggressive, even for a creature as hardy as a goblin.

Camrad_RIP 20.02.23 в 12:11

In general, Yelny is a place where you can easily and not very strenuously (small hordes garrison not the enemy, and the small skirmishes are small, that their danger is small) to improve their skills, or die ignominiously, but to make a career here can only be in their dreams. No, if you have to fight off a fully fledged horde that's powerful and all-consuming, you'll be appreciated. Except that reasonable monsters know very well that there is no reason to break through this fort - no loot, no glory, not even a normal massacre. And the feat, in which you save a rich trading city and the same feat, where you defend useless stone ruin - it's very different feats. Hint: one of them will get you an order and gold, while the other will get you at most a pat on the back.

Camrad_RIP 20.02.23 в 12:13

Bad a place for a good career.

Camrad_RIP 20.02.23 в 12:14

Trevor Maligantium, his father's second son, was a clever, ambitious, grasping, and quite ordinary lad. He did not have the adventurous streak that enables a mediocre man to rise above a sea of mediocre men like him! His good training, intelligence, and diligence, combined with his father's influence, had allowed him a lot, but there was always someone with more impressive characteristics and no less noble. A few unfortunate conflicts, combined with the shaken influence of his kin at court, had led to what one might effectively call exile - here, he became the Emperor's Eye in that godforsaken place.

Camrad_RIP 20.02.23 в 12:20

The Eye is a man whom no one likes but everyone respects and fears, for he has only a little less power than the commandant of an outpost or, say, the garrison commander, but surprisingly few restrictions. He is a kind of all-seeing observer, ensuring that the warriors of the Ages remain faithful forever and that no unnecessary thoughts wander into the minds of the commanding staff. They are trained to search for information, work with people and unravel intrigues, level thirtieth or higher, and have excellent artifacts, which allows them to survive an elimination attempt if they work too well.

Camrad_RIP 20.02.23 в 12:25

This is if one is talking about the position of Eye in some very large garrison close to the Capital, occupying a strategic position, or simply being on the list of elite units in the Empire of the Ages. Such a position is very prestigious, and there are hardly a dozen, if not hundreds at once, of applicants for each place.

Camrad_RIP 20.02.23 в 12:27

Speaking of Yelny, as well as its Eye... His level was exactly twentieth. His class was unsuitable (magical swordsman, rare grade), he lacked the necessary skills, and of the mighty artifacts he had only the family blade and the medallion of the Hearing Ear - the shop rattle of all the Eyes who were on active duty. Even the mere presence of such a medallion opened many doors and made him feel great in any city... if only they were here! No dinner parties, no expensive noble clubs, not even, pardon me, normal brothels! Had he known, he would have begged his father to take one of his maids along. Though he probably wouldn't have let him, his reputation at home was already shattered and he didn't need a scandal. To think such insolence as a personal heater could be tolerated by the straight-as-blade soldiers was naive. As inappropriate as he was for his position, he could understand such little things.

Camrad_RIP 20.02.23 в 12:36

He was lucky in general - he might be freezing his bones off in Yelnom, climbing the walls with boredom, but his seniority was dripping. In a couple of years, he'd move to a place closer to the capital, and he'd still own the medallion by right. And so will the Eye's position, just not in such a remote place any more. In short, the father had managed to turn his son's troubles into a future dividend for all the men of his clan. It's a nuisance to endure adversity, of course, but he does carry the Maligantum' name! If only it weren't for that damned boredom! He'd be glad of an orcs horde - a small one - or a tribe of trolls coming in from the mountains - a small one - or even a giant coming down from the mountains - preferably alone - he was so sick of everything.

Camrad_RIP 20.02.23 в 15:06

Winter in these parts, thanks to some weather anomaly, was always very snowy, cold, and windy. The only spells that got regular updates were the defensive and attacking ones, while the interior temperature control seemed to have been often neglected. That is if such charms were even in the original design of this ludicrous ruin!

Camrad_RIP 20.02.23 в 16:45

He had to wrap himself in two warm blankets and curse himself for not thinking to take a warming amulet from home. He had a personal one, and there were plenty of them in the warehouses, but he couldn't carry one on him for long, and he hadn't thought of taking a stationary one that could insulate an entire room. The stockpiles no longer had any, - there wasn't much there at all, - but warm blankets were plentiful. He had ordered the private rooms to be heated as soon as the first snow arrived, but his study, which could also serve as a small conference room, had no fireplace as the fire would damage important papers.

Camrad_RIP 20.02.23 в 16:46

Only the blankets remained.

Camrad_RIP 20.02.23 в 16:46

In places so far removed from major cities and high command, many rules and seemingly immutable traditions are regarded as recommendations at best. For example, hardly anyone would risk breaking into the Eye's office practically without knocking, without comparable titles, backgrounds, and powers. Here at Yeln, discipline was somewhat lax... as far as respect for the worthy was concerned, or the former villeins' ability to keep their mouths shut in a subservient silence.

Camrad_RIP 20.02.23 в 16:47

"Lord of Maligantium, there was a prisoner brought in by Faram's boys on patrol." Though outwardly Martin, the senior officer in charge of the outpost's internal patrols, was relaxed, Trevor was well aware that he enjoyed pestering the young nobleman with such a demonstrative attitude.

Camrad_RIP 20.02.23 в 16:48

Fortunately, the second heir, despite a healthy dose of ancestral pride was perfectly capable of holding his temper and not rushing into provocation. The time for revenge would come later, along with the same characteristic, which would then be sewn into the file of a twenty-second-level swordsman. Trevor's actions might not be enough to execute the Captain for treason - the Commandant could stand up for his subordinate - but just a pay cut and a mark of insubordination would be a nasty surprise. Martin could not fail to understand that, but, apparently, he bit his teeth, not wanting to admit that he could not provoke the "self-confident scoundrel". You've got someone to provoke, you redneck! Trevor may not have been born in a palace, but he knew his way around the capital and had not fallen for such simple tricks in a long time.

Camrad_RIP 20.02.23 в 16:53

"Lead the way." The imperial interrogator, dryly and carefully concealing his anger at the whole fortress, said as he rose from his desk and put on his family and staff amulets.

Camrad_RIP 20.02.23 в 16:59

The place was so dangerous that it was better not to walk even a few extra steps without protection-if not an arrow from an enemy infiltrator, then some evil bird mutated from the planarian scourge would try to pry your eyes out. The first week Trevor nearly went stark raving mad because of a couple of savage wolves who were tempted by the lone human figure. Since that adventure, he'd remembered to wear protection even when drinking tea at dawn in his room. He was never alone if he was any closer to the outside world.

Camrad_RIP 20.02.23 в 17:01

Faram Zaldin, a high-ranking jaeger for this place, was in charge of all the outer patrols of Yelny, acting not only as a scout but also as the head of the food gatherers. Though the food in the Empire of Ages was substantial, not forgetting to bring the caravans even to such remote places as the Vzdyrzhnevsky tract, nobody liked to eat crackers and corned meat all year round. Especially when there were so many all kinds of fowl and other running meat around.

Camrad_RIP 20.02.23 в 17:04

Despite Trevor's overzealous, in the opinion of the officer-fed Trevor, focus on finding prey, the jaeger squads were engaged in very important work. Shooting the occasional greenhorn that ventured beyond the patrol routes, hunting for creatures, and tracking monsters, of which there were even more than intelligent monsters in the forests, regularly setting traps, alarms, and other important things. In the past, according to the records in the local archives (out of boredom you read even such kind of papers), patrols had gone much deeper into the forests, sometimes even into the foothills of both ranges, but that practice had been abandoned nearly fifty years ago because of the loss of life and the lack of usefulness of the patrols.

Camrad_RIP 20.02.23 в 17:08

The prisoners of green were rarely taken, only for the sake of checking the situation in the tribal structure of the wilderness; they could not be sure what plans they had. They took tongues strictly according to schedule, not at every opportunity, as bringing a prisoner to the fort is a whole epic, especially if the prisoner does not want to be taken. Now there was no scheduled capture, which means either the Forest Brothers' patrols were very lucky and could not refuse to carry out the plan "up front", or the reason was something else. If the huntsmen had only taken advantage of a chance like an orc getting too close to the fort (there is almost no need to drag him anywhere), there would have been less noise and whispering.

Camrad_RIP 20.02.23 в 17:18

So it's about something else.

Camrad_RIP 20.02.23 в 17:19

And when he saw the prisoner, Trevor immediately knew exactly what it was. Or rather, when he saw her looking around hysterically, trying to gnaw at the gag in her mouth and not expecting anything good from her captors. Among the orcs, there were more women with weapons in their hands than humans and fewer beautiful ones. Trevor considered himself a very experienced connoisseur of female beauty. And he'd also seen ordinary orc females, who were at least simply pretty seemed very rare. Here, however, it was either an abnormally beautiful individual or, far more likely, a despicable half-breed. Her features were too correct and pleasing to the human eye.

Camrad_RIP 20.02.23 в 17:22

Trevor couldn't figure out what it was that excited him. It caused an underlying sense of mystery. If he hadn't been a nobleman with an excellent education, he would never have understood it, but he was. She was an orc, which was obvious, but an orc pleasing to the human eye. Her face bore all the characteristic features of an orc: the distinctive bite and shape of her jaw, the peculiar structure of her skull, and the different facial expressions, but somehow the spectacle was presented in a way that was not at all repulsive.

Camrad_RIP 24.02.23 в 07:41

Not a half-breed, no, for there is too much of the human in them. They're more like green-teeth and green-haired freaks, even if they are quite lush. Here, however, the beauty is not human at all, which means there is less than half the human blood in her. Likely, a roll of the dice has so successfully chosen the gifts of her ancestral blood that the result is surprising - even Trevor himself was frankly interested in the possessor of an unconventional appearance... purely for naturalistic purposes, of course, like the butterfly collectors who shudder at every rare insect.

Camrad_RIP 24.02.23 в 07:42

"I can guess what you're thinking, lad." His thoughts were interrupted by the only man in the place whose commoner origins he could tolerate without unnecessary anger. "But look not at the girl's face, but at the things that have been taken off her."

Camrad_RIP 24.02.23 в 07:43

Commandant Reim's finger pointed precisely at the equipment on the table in the corner, and Trevor immediately went into work mode. The commandant evoked a certain respect from the Eye both for his professionalism and his very impressive level. He was also the one who had saved Trevor, who had been struck by the enemy, if not with his life, then with his eyesight. The thirty-third is already too much for Yelny, but the commandant did not want to leave here, preferring the stability of the outland to any adventures in the Capital, even if these adventures may lead to career advancement.

Camrad_RIP 24.02.23 в 07:47

The experienced warrior and commander were quick to point out the main thing without being distracted by complicated theories about the amount of human blood in her veins. All he had to do was to examine her gear, clearly uncharacteristic of an ordinary orc. The elaborate camouflage made of bits of hare skin, twigs, and pebbles, with which she can disguise herself masterfully in the winter woods, was not too surprising. Such camouflage is used by both human and orc jagers, whom some fools say humans got the idea from. Even though the cloak was of high quality, made with the love and professionalism of a skilled craftsman, there was nothing unusual about it.

Camrad_RIP 24.02.23 в 07:49

More surprising were the orcish weapons: two iron daggers, a set of iron and bone arrows, some suspiciously glinting with venom, a blowpipe, five knives, and a thin thread probably made from the vein of some monster. A rather extensive arsenal, analogs of which he had seen more than once among the trophies brought back by patrols. Except that they were analogs.

Camrad_RIP 24.02.23 в 07:52

He moved a little closer and put on his gloves, just in case. Trevor examined the trophies more closely. The more details he noticed, the more alarming it became for the officer representing the Emperor's interests. Most of the greenhorns' weapons were of a strikingly low quality, made of poor iron, produced by artisan smiths who had barely developed their skills. Occasionally, of course, there were the more potent artifacts, enchanted by barbarian shamans until they cracked, but they were just as badly made pieces of bone, wood, and iron, now merely magical.

Camrad_RIP 24.02.23 в 07:54

Here... all weapons, be they iron daggers, throwing needles, or bone projectiles for the blowpipe were of very, let us stress this detail, very high quality. Indeed they were! Trevor would not hesitate to take these blades to the family treasury and boast about them afterward in front of anyone willing to listen. No, not legendary artifacts, but at least a rare grade they deserved, and much closer to the epic than common.

Camrad_RIP 24.02.23 в 07:55

Incredible strength, a sharpening that could cut a soaring hair lengthwise, the ability to partially ignore protective barriers as if due to the negation of magic, an unnatural lightness, and, of course, the appearance. Trashy iron or bone, but these implements of death were beautiful and even somewhere graceful - streamlined angles, excellent balance, fine workmanship. It was beyond the power of the tribal smiths known to Yelny to create such a thing. Perhaps somewhere deep in the wilderness, there are entities powerful enough to be considered quasi-states. Trevor refused to believe such nonsense, demeaning to the pride of a citizen of the Empire of the Ages, not considering the greenlings civilized enough for such complicated things. But anything was possible.

Camrad_RIP 24.02.23 в 08:06

But there are no such craftsmen around because they would have been found out a long time ago.

Camrad_RIP 24.02.23 в 08:07

And an ordinary... Okay, unusually beautiful, an orc scout of not too high level, armed with the kind of gizmos that, in another tribe, not every chief would be able to get, is still here in front of them. So she got it from somewhere, and someone gave it to her. And since an ordinary scout got such a treasure, the chiefs and shamans must be even better armed.

Camrad_RIP 24.02.23 в 08:07

Who could give such an expensive and extremely poorly disguised orcish outfit to an ordinary tribe of green-skinned freaks? A lot of people, really. Not even worth speculating about, at least not until a full interrogation has taken place. But why would this someone commit such foolishness? There was only one answer, so Trevor, who had a hunch, dragged the commandant out of his office, away from prying ears, and began to explain his position to him.

Camrad_RIP 24.02.23 в 08:12

"Too complicated to be true, and more importantly, practically useless." Reim gave his verdict, listening carefully and without interrupting the wearer of the medallion. "Just use your head, and you'll see where you're wrong."

Camrad_RIP 24.02.23 в 08:13

Trevor thought honestly but found no answer as he silently reported with a glance alone. In his opinion, the version was turning out to be, though not very solid but the only one possible.

Camrad_RIP 24.02.23 в 08:16

"The items taken from this orc could be sold for a good hundred gold coins of imperial coinage." He reasonably states. "It's beyond the power of the nearby tribes to make them themselves. And the only purpose for which anyone could arm and motivate the Greenskins is known to both of us. And it's not our outpost at all. Apparently, someone managed to get information about the location of the vein and decided to..."

Camrad_RIP 24.02.23 в 08:19

"Youth, youth." Just said Reim, interrupting the speech of the slowly getting more and more excited special agent. "Believe me, Trevor, all concerned have known about the vein and its supposed location for a long time. Maybe not the exact coordinates, but the approximate location of the lode is known to many. No one has launched an attack on the place solely because it is very difficult, would require enormous effort, would not bring any benefit to the attackers, and would result in losses greater than those suffered by the Empire."

Camrad_RIP 24.02.23 в 08:20

A pause, after which the commandant also activated his amulet and proceeded to inform the over-zealous and restless boy of the information he had in his possession.

Camrad_RIP 24.02.23 в 08:20

"Anything the vein gives away is immediately sent by portal to a warehouse in the Palace Treasury. Any attempt to break through to the mine will end with it being evacuated and liquidators sent in. There's simply nothing to take there - the loot isn't stored there, and the passive defenses will hold anyone back long enough to allow the staff to escape by the portal. But even if someone manages to capture it and cut out the workers and guards. It's of little use. We're sandwiched between a hammer and anvil, with the Empire on one side and the frontier on the other. The invaders will not be able to hold the vein, and the only thing they will be able to do is interrupt the delivery of the material for a short time because any destruction we will restore with less effort than the enemies will spend on sabotage. And the group that does this is doomed - they will not be allowed out of here. The exchange is disadvantageous for everyone who could try to carry out such a diversion. That is why no one tried - for a really large-scale campaign just one vein is not enough, and the tract itself is not needed even for free."

Camrad_RIP 24.02.23 в 08:23