BECMI Chapter 187 – Masterful Plans

I weighed what I would be doing, and knew I couldn’t let this continue.“We’re going to find every wizard engaging in this sort of thing, and they are going to disappear,” I stated unequivocally. Both hyn and human smiled in grim approval of that decision, nodding eagerly. “It is going to form a foundation for the purge teams going after the undead and the lycanthropes that also infest the nation. I understand lupins are enthusiastic hunters of were-creatures, so keep on a lookout for them. We will have to be light on Divine Casters, as that is considered treason to employ in Zanzyr, but if there is such a thing as a discreet Paladin you stumble across, consider recruiting them if you hear of them.”

“Other hynfolk, too, Lady Edge?” Buck asked eagerly.

I nodded. “I am not seeking Masters, however,” I indicated to him, and his expression fell slightly. “No, do not give me that. A Master’s first loyalty is to the Shires, and here is where their power is nurtured and grows. I will not compromise that loyalty, but neither will I be constrained by it.

“That is not to say I will not work with them. I believe we can have a quite productive working arrangement.” The sparkle in my eyes promised something bloody, and both of them grinned broadly. “So, make some contacts among the Masters, they are the true power in the Shires, the Sheriffs are as much figureheads as local nobility. The Masters are Divinely-empowered, so in addition to being the strongest, they are also tools of the Hyn Immortals.” I paused a moment. “Have you been caught up on the first counter-raid?”

“We stayed away from mentions of it,” Guy stated promptly. “Although it seems to have gone well?” he asked hopefully.

“Rukheim or other dwarves, hyn from Federyn and the Shires, and random non-mage humans from among the peasantry or travelers they could pick off at opportunity. This one alone is responsible for at least fifty disappearances, and they only recovered sixteen living. The corpses were used for fertilizer or to make undead or bone golem servants, there’s nothing left to recover.”

Both their faces turned down. “And he’s not the only one, is he?” Buck asked coldly.

“No. I don’t know the patterns of disappearances, but by my guesses, there are at least four Zanzyran Wizards engaged in this activity. Three of them were corresponding, and seemed to indicate others doing the same thing with rather jovial tones and one-upping one another on how successful their hunts were.”

Both men grimaced. “We can’t stick them fast enough, can we, Lady Edge?” Guy spat off to the side.

“Power just goes to the head of some. Remember that they are not the only people doing such things, and it isn’t just because they are Wizards. You will find plenty of slavers working in and for Siricil, and they aren’t all spellcasters. Zanzyr just makes it easy for wizards to act without scruples, and does little to punish bad behavior.

“On the flip side, if they vanish without a trace, the government doesn’t come looking for them, and you generally know who their family is, since they are only secretive about such things when outside Zanzyr.”

The smiles to that were only appreciative of just how useful that lack of care about their citizens could be. “Which doesn’t mean some of them won’t be royally pissed off that non-wizards dared to do that to THEM!” Buck pointed out gravely.

“Well, we can’t expect common sense to get in the way of egos like that, right?” I noted, looking at Guy, who had the grace to flush in embarrassment. All those Wisdom points of his I’d into place had really helped him a lot in controlling his basic urges, but he was still known for watching every gold coin like a hawk and getting all the loot that he could.

He was just a lot more responsible about how he used that gold.

“Which is why we use quiet and discreet methods, instead of loud and explosive and showy that leave trails and create fear that can be whipped into hysteria,” Guy agreed slowly, thinking it through. “It… is probably best if non-Zanzyrans are the ones who do most of the fighting, too…” he considered thoughtfully.

“Amusingly enough, the elves who went on that little escapade were all immigrants and students from the Sidheduiche or Warsherz or Darkmoor, not Zanzyran citizens,” I noted, “and the humans were from Darkmoor.

“The politics of it are going to be interesting, the hypocrisy huge, and the fallout likely violent. But that’s what happens when you stand up to the bullies with the big fists.”

They both nodded again, fully understanding that mindset. Magic just helped twist it along even darker paths, enabling the physically weak to dominate those stronger than them with magic.

Just a different fist.

“Now, what are you finding out in Seven-Town here that’s of interest?” I asked mildly.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

“Chimaro and Federyn have a nasty undercurrent to their trade relations. Chimaro is trying to start establishing a land-based mercantile system, Federyn is fighting them because Chimaro definitely preys upon any shipping that isn’t their own. It’s golden throat-cutting, and hyn products are part of what they are sparring about now,” Buck instantly spoke up. “There’s some knives in the night, and some families and clans are starting to pick sides based on bribes, gold, profits, and future power.”

“Have the Masters picked a side?” I had to ask.

“Sitting back and seeing what develops. The pirate clans get our own back against Chimaro, just like they do against Siricil,” Buck shrugged. “If it starts pitting hyn against hyn openly, the Masters will likely move on it.”

“I did a walk around the shoreline. Chimaro’s people average out to Brown, and their ship captains shade to Purple or Gray.” Both of them winced at me, knowing full well what those Colors meant. “Federyn’s people tend to shade Yellow, Blue, or White, although the greedier trading houses go Brown and Purple as well. Interestingly enough, the Ojutalo crews are Colored fairly similar to Federyn.

“The hyn average Yellow to White. I think it should be obvious who they should favor.”

“The Neutral is the downfall of the Good,” Buck recited with a sigh. Over and over again, setting aside morals for coin, bribes, competition, and self-rewards brought the Good down to the level of blatant and sly Neutrals, who hated being judged on moral levels and having such unmeasurable stuff affecting trade and business and politics.

It was why great and Good things found it so hard to endure, especially in a world without Heaven to keep things constant and back them. Spite, envy, jealousy, greed, all sniping in from all directions, tearing away the best and brightest and leaving only a fall to their level behind…

“Making a note that the Moor Corporation should seek to start developing ties to Ojutalo for shipping purposes,” Guy grinned, getting the meaning of things. “C’mon, Buck. Let’s find a captain and open some negotiations, see where they lead.”

“The Weighted Anchor is the best place to start,” the hyn nodded, leading the way as both men bowed to me and turned to hurry off, knowing they were dismissed without me needing to say a word.

The Chimaro Merchant Guild’s dominance of shipping was similar to mainland Britain developing its fleet on Terra, since the island nation couldn’t match the size of any land-based army. Siricil could technically beat their navy in size, but not in quality, as the Chimarans simply had better ships, weapons, and crews, and weren’t at all interested in helping others reach the same level of quality. Siricil wasn’t huge on innovation, either, and tended to rely on cheap manpower instead of better arms and armaments for its people.

The Sea of Strife, often shortened to the Strife, was aptly named, with pirates and mercantile fleets mixing with navies, all of whom were often all three at the same time, for over a thousand years. Siricil had managed to piss off all its neighbors with its strategies of conquest and unscrupulous merchants, meaning every major power in the Strife engaged in ruthless mercantile and frequent pirate competition against all others sailing the sea (but especially Siricil), enforcing their own claims and attempting to drive away or sink their competition with ruthless practicality… and if they could get away with it.

It was said that every day, somewhere on the Strife, a ship was burning or sinking from a fight. That was probably a bit of a stretch, but not by much, since it also included the Raker Coast. Things got VERY aggressive on the Strife.

Siricil had the largest naval presence, but the others were all opposed to it, so it didn’t dominate like it could have, not the least because most of its navy was on the eastern shores of the Angrusi Peninsula and coast of the continent of Olos proper, where they worried about Delpha and its slumbering power. Constant skirmishing and flexing between imperial powers on the Isle of Kheper there had been ongoing for literally centuries.

It was rampant competition, and gave my people something to look forward to and to accomplish without me. I only needed to check the big movers, and let my people with the floor raised higher do what they needed to do to make the world a better place.

If that resulted in a lot of unscrupulous bastards getting their throats cut in ports all over the Strife, well, that was the way of things.

We left for Tinderpot in the morning, with only one warehouse going up in flames behind us, and the slaving operation run out of it cut short by dint of dead slavers sprawled about, the names of the captains running them finding their way into the hands of the local Sheriff and other interested parties.

Whether the hyn government would choose to act on them or pass them off to the pirate clans for their own attention was their decision. The students were certainly proud of what they’d accomplished!

Our course was up to Tinderpot, where Master Nightswift had managed to round up either survivors of previous kidnapping events or their relatives who could visualize those who had gone missing. The city was famous for its red clay and the crockery that came out of it, which was sold all over the Strife and shipped as far north as the Frokki Holds.

Now it was a place to meet some aggrieved hyn and their families, grasping at a straw of vengeance… even if it meant putting up with some Zanzyran wizards to do it, the same ones who had been behind so many of these episodes.

More importantly, it was about meeting some of the Masters who tried and failed to blend in, their magical mastery obvious to my eyes. I was certainly making it clear that I wasn’t underestimating them because of their size…

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There was an even dozen of them in this room, which was rather low and built to hyn standards. Only standing five feet and fingers myself, it just meant I didn’t jump or I might hit the ceiling, but higher ceilings made for better ventilation.

As for the furniture, I had my own Disk, and didn’t need to be uncomfortable in a short chair, although I was sure they would have brought in something for me to stand one on to be comfortable.

The Masters seemed to enjoy cloaks that were the same gray-green hue as Elven Cloaks. I was aware that they had a reverence for a clan of elves who used to dwell in the Treeshire and were their patrons and teachers long ago. The clan was long-vanished now, but the tales and stories back then played to a long-established standard of hospitality to elves… even weird ones like me.

A bunch of child-like faces too old for their years looked back at me. They probably had some elven blood in them, and by how hirsute a few of them were, dwarven blood as well, although nobody really acknowledged it and they were all ‘just hyn’.