Guide to Alabach, Her Places, and Her People
Prologue:
The Coward’s War
Earthmaster Seán held his tongue. It wasn’t something he was used to doing. From the classrooms of the Academy to the council hall of the Triad, and even within the inner circles of the Silverback’s dissident movement, Seán had always spoken his mind, caring little for who he contradicted.
But tonight, in the throne room of Keep Carríga, standing before the Earl of the Midlands, he kept his thoughts to himself. Even as the undead horde slew the townsfolk of Rosca Umhír outside and threw their bodies against the castle walls, Seán remained silent.
I am a visitor, he reminded himself. It is not my place to question his lordship, no matter how questionable his actions may be.
“Sire, please you must reconsider!” cried the crystallographer who had brought the dire news that Ardh Sidhe to the north had fallen. “We cannot assume help is on the way.”
“I assume nothing!” said Earl Carríga, with a voice that once commanded an army of a thousand strong. Several of his councilmen and advisors shrank back in fear. “How dare you seek refuge in my keep, then demand I open my doors to let in those… creatures!”
To Seán’s surprise, the crystallographer stood his ground. “But the townsfolk, your highness. If fighting back against this enemy is not an option, then please, lower the drawbridge for them.”
“The town is already lost,” said Earl Carríga. “We are all who remain.”
A concerned mutter ran through the room. Indeed, the faint sounds of screaming and shouting amidst the slaughter outside implied the very opposite.
Pathetic, thought Seán. A whole life cultivating an image of a war-leader, only to die sitting on his arse as his castle is breached.
Seán sighed. He too would likely die alongside the fool.
Only a few short days ago, everything was in place. Seán had arrived at Rosca Umhír to be Earl Carríga’s arcane advisor, and the Silverback’s rebellion was days from being set in motion. The Simian’s plan was a simple one: Nicole and her Reapers would take Point Grey, holding the Clifflands as Argyll gave his demands to the Crown. Fair demands, in Seán’s eyes. First to establish an independent Simian state throughout the Northern Reach of Alabach, and second to destroy the wicked Church of the Trinity, redistributing the opulent wealth of the Basilica of Penance to the needy.
In the event that King Diarmuid did not capitulate, choosing instead to engage with the separatist forces in Point Grey, the Silverback had another plan.
Though a plan no more, now that a different enemy threatened the kingdom.
Seán looked up to a great stained-glass window that stood behind the earl’s throne. It bore the image of King Móráin the First during his alleged “apotheosis,” with his bright, golden wings that blinded the Simian natives with their radiance. More lies of the Church, conceived to shield the world from the Truth, just as the garish stained-glass image obscured the flames of the burning city outside.
None had spoken up since the earl’s last outburst. Across the room, two noblemen in robes hung their heads in silence, while a younger man prayed in frantic whispers, hands clasped. The others formed tight huddles, weeping quietly together.
Hopeless, thought Seán, his fingers slowly forming a fist. How did it all become so….
A knock boomed through the room, causing many to jump in fright. It came from the entrance to the throne room, where a mighty oaken door sealed those within from the horrors unfolding without.
When the knock came a second time, one guard set aside his pike to open the door slightly. It seemed that he was ready to dismiss whoever was on the other side, but once the door was ajar, it abruptly burst inward.
A women strode in, a mass of dark plate-mail clinking with each of her steps. She held a great helm under one arm, with a swan crest atop its head, its wings outstretched, its golden bill open as if shrieking.
“Father,” she said, taking a knee. “Our marksmen are fatigued and ineffective against this enemy. I sought to lead a vanguard out across the drawbridge. Light cavalry to clear the way for armoured knights. Lord-Lieutenant Torloch said he could rally those guarding the halls to join, but none will act without your command.”
Earl Carríga leaned forward, eyes open and wide, as if scarcely believing what he could see.
“And no command shall be given,” he rasped. “The royal guard and the city guard and the Lord-Lieutenant’s knights have all been ordered to guard this keep. They shall do nothing else.”
The armoured woman stood, mouth ajar. Seán knew her as Lady Aislinn Carríga, though she looked like no lady tonight. She was the last heir of the Carríga dynasty, with Sir Bearach dead and Cathal in Penance, soon to join him.
“Father, they’re slaughtering our people freely out there! Lord-Lieutenant Torloch was readying his men to ride out, but someone raised the drawbridge.”
“I gave the order to raise it,” said Earl Carríga. “And anyone who dares leave shall be hung as a deserter.”
“Deserter?!” Aislinn cried. “If anyone is deserting their post, Father, it’s you.”
“Treason!” roared the earl. “How dare you stand before me, wearing my son’s armour like a play-acting child!”
“My brother would never hide while innocents are in danger. It’s only a matter of time before the dead are upon us too. Why are you so content in waiting for that time to come?”
“Because Keep Carríga has never been breached,” said the earl. “These walls have thrown back worse enemies in the past. This dead horde have brought no siege engines or towers to take this castle. So here we shall stay!”
Aislinn’s mouth quivered, unable to find the words to respond. She turned her back to her father and left the throne room, her stride more confident than her entrance.
After the guards closed the door gently behind her, the room went back into its mild stir, as if nothing had happened.
Seán glanced up at the earl.
Keep Carríga has never been breached because Keep Carríga has never seen real war. And no castle in the kingdom has seen a war quite like this.
Seán smiled, seeing the irony that even if this horde never came, Keep Carríga would have seen a fate far worse than a siege.
This was part of the Silverback’s master plan, to be executed after Point Grey was taken by the Reapers. Once the Crown’s forces were focused north, Seán was to retrieve a small device from a safe house within Rosca Umhír. This device, invented by the genius of Chief Engineer Nicole, was said to be capable of destroying an entire castle with a single blast. Meanwhile, other loyal dissidents would do the same to other castles throughout the kingdom.
And that was how the Silverback would wage his war. One big display in Point Grey to draw King Diarmuid’s full attention northwards. Then His Grace would receive word that Keep Carríga of the Midlands was destroyed without siege. The Crown could respond in one of two ways: by pulling out of the Clifflands entirely, or splitting their forces. Either way, another castle elsewhere in the kingdom would be blown to rubble, without any visible cause. And the Silverback would make it clear that these attacks would not stop unless the Crown met his demands.
A coward’s war, mused Seán. But an effective one. Indeed, what force could possibly stop a tactic like this?
