12-71. Infiltration
A pleasant summer breeze flitted through the open window, bringing with it the sound of chittering insects and the calls of the birds who hunted them. Layered beneath that familiar cacophony were the unmistakable sounds of the city. For Ramik, the combination was more than comforting. It felt like home.
Because it was.
He’d been in Ironshore for years, and yet, it wasn’t until recently that it had begun to truly feel like he belonged. Part of that came from simple details like the progression of the city to something that resembled a real municipality. His wife and friends helped as well. But mostly, it became home when the debt to the Green Mountain Mining Guild had been settled. Without that hanging over his head, he could finally relax.
Of course, for a goblin like Ramik, relaxation meant an even more stringent dedication to work. That was another reason he felt so comfortable in Ironshore. The people who’d settled in his city were all hard workers, dedicated in a way that felt almost alien to anyone who’d grown up on a different planet. Sure, on Extrixa, there was plenty of diligence to go around. But there was laziness, too. A level of complacency that came from people who knew they would never climb any higher than their forebears.
True, there were exceptions to that rule as well. The truly talented would frequently rise to the top. But for someone born to the lower class, that required an uncommon work ethic as well. Most people – even those who might’ve made it to a higher rung on the ladder – lacked the drive to accomplish that feat.
That resulted in a mostly stagnant population.
But on Earth? Everything was new. Everyone believed they could translate their newfound power – whether they followed combat, commercial, or crafting paths – to wealth, privilege, and importance. That belief, often false though it was, pushed them in a way that nothing else ever could.
And collectively, Ironshore benefited from the resultant dedication.
So did its people, of course. Its citizens were among the most prosperous in the world, and given their success, that characteristic wasn’t soon to change. If everything continued on its proper course, Ironshore would become a true economic powerhouse. And that status would persist even after the world had overcome the threat of excisement and laid itself bare to the rest of the multi-verse.
Or that was Ramik’s hope, at least. They were well on their way, but that didn’t mean they’d reach their destination without significant investment, in terms of both time and money. That was what it took to reach the top, and he refused to allow any other eventuality to come to pass.
To that end, he worked.
Even as the summer evening turned to dusk, he kept at it – at least until his Administrator informed him that she was going home for the night. That brought him out of his work-induced stupor to remind him that his responsibilities extended well past doing paperwork.
With that in mind, he gathered everything into neat piles, sorted them into their proper places, then closed his window. It locked automatically, the building’s defenses sliding into place so that no one could infiltrate the office. With that done, he grabbed his hat, his coat, and his cane before leaving work behind.
Soon enough, he was out on the street and among the people who depended on him to steer the city in the right direction. Some of them appreciated his efforts, but others believed they could do a better job. Such was the plight of anyone in power, and Ramik tried not to take any of it too personally.
Even so, he couldn’t help but feel a little let down by the increasingly loud voices calling for elections. While he would give in to such demands if they began to represent the majority of the citizens – a threshold that had yet to be met – the process would be complicated by the fact that he wasn’t just the city’s mayor. He was also their City Lord, though most didn’t even know that he’d been given a Seal of Authority.
With it, he’d chosen a route that would ensure the prosperity of the city’s crafters, increasing the quality of their goods and helping them to level more quickly. It was a choice he did not regret, even if some of the other options – like the one that would aid in defense – seemed flashier and potentially more useful in the short term.
Either way, it complicated the idea of stepping down as mayor.
He traversed the city, stopping every now and again to speak to friends, other governmental employees, or important citizens. He didn’t neglect the normal folk, either. In fact, he might’ve spent more time with them than with anyone else, mostly because he regarded them as the backbone of the city’s economy.
That was a mistake a lot of people made. So many focused on the most powerful citizens. The high-level crafters, the combatants, the wealthy merchants – but nothing ever got done without thousands of lower-level apprentices, laborers, and footsoldiers who did the dirty work. Protecting them and giving them a voice was the only way to maintain a truly prosperous city.
That brought to mind an issue he faced.
How to control the powerful was an eternal question among every population. Some civilizations had strong fighters dedicated to that task. Others created police states with harsh consequences for anyone who stepped out of line. But far and away, the most prevalent system was one where the truly powerful – deities and above – were allowed to do whatever they wanted.
The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.
Often, they established rules of their own, but they were only enforced when the powerful agreed to allow it.
After all, what was Ramik to do if someone like Elijah Hart decided to kill a few hundred people? He’d already executed a few, and in broad daylight. No trial. No evidence. He just did what he wanted. Ramik had no choice but to allow it.
That kind of thing would become more common unless he headed it off. He just wasn’t certain how that might be accomplished. As he traversed the city, the problem occupied his thoughts until something out of the ordinary caught his eye.
Ramik didn’t know every single goblin in Ironshore. To claim as much would be ridiculous. However, he did know the most powerful among them, largely because they’d all been part of the first wave of settlers. Others had come and gone since then, mostly from other settlements, but also during the latter parts of the subsidized travel period. None of those had managed to attain power, either social or system-based.
So, when he saw the goblin leaning against a wall, acting as if she didn’t have a care in the world, she caught Ramik’s attention. And it wasn’t because she was quite beautiful, either. Not only that, at least, though he couldn’t deny the evidence before him. With her long, slender nose, sharp teeth, and perfectly tapered ears, she was the very picture of goblin beauty.
She was also well past him in terms of levels. Not all that uncommon, considering that he rarely had time to hunt.
If he’d ever seen her in his city, he definitely would have remembered.
Ramik didn’t immediately approach her. Instead, he continued on his way, stopping at a local street vendor to buy a snack. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched the goblin woman, and what he saw raised all sorts of alarms. She seemed not to be doing anything in particular. Just waiting. But her gaze was sharp. Her ears wiggled ever so slightly as she listened to everything around her. And though loitering wasn’t exactly a crime – especially at this time of night, when the streets were full of pedestrians – the context made it suspicious.
Surreptitiously, Ramik continued to watch her.
But he was no spy.
That became evident when, as he was cornered by one of his constituents who wanted to talk about waste management, he locked eyes with the woman. It was immediately clear that she knew she’d been recognized, made obvious by the slight smirk she gave him.
Then, without warning, she pulled a crystal from her pocket. It flashed, and a second later, an explosion rocked the city. It was only a block away, so the shockwave knocked Ramik from his feet. He went tumbling until he hit the vendor’s cart, knocking it over.
Ears ringing and with a cloud of dust suffusing the air, Ramik picked himself up. A foot came out of nowhere, taking him in the chin with enough force to fracture his jaw. He skipped across the ground in a forced barrel roll until he hit the wall of the nearest building. Stars danced in his field of vision as he blinked away what was probably a concussion.
Somehow, he managed to embrace his Pyromania buff, enhancing his fire spells. His hand burst with flame as he saw the goblin woman approach. She still wore a smirk on her face, probably because she didn’t see the fire enveloping his fingers.
“Little mayor,” she said, her throaty voice as pleasant as her appearance. Though there was a note of disdain there that ruined everything. “You thought –”
Ramik thrust his hand forward, and a Fire Lance leaped from his cane. It was a focus made by one of the best Woodworkers in Ironshore, and it enhanced his fire spells even further. The infiltrator tried to react, but she was both too close and too unsuspecting to manage it. The Fire Lance hit her in the chest, destroying her breastbone and searing its way through her torso. A seven foot long spear of dense flame erupted from her back.
An expression of immense surprise painted itself upon her face. Then, she collapsed. Judging by the influx of experience, she was quite a bit higher level than him, though that didn’t count for as much as it probably should have After all, Ramik had taken advantage of the city’s dense atmosphere and one of the chambers beneath the Forge of Creation to make a few strides forward with his cultivation. And his status as a City Lord gave him a little extra power as well, so long as he remained within Ironshore.
But Ramik couldn’t take the time to pat himself on the back, because he heard a dozen other explosions erupt across the city. Most of the pedestrians panicked, but there were enough of them who’d lived through the two previous invasions that they knew exactly how to respond.
Even as he picked himself up, people all around started to herd the less prepared among them to the various shelters arranged throughout the city. Seeing that gave him a few seconds to get his thoughts together, and he soon found himself racing toward the Branch.
Along the way, he saw a handful of fights having broken out. Most of them included off-duty legionnaires, but the regular citizens pitched in against powerful foreigners as well. He skidded to a stop in front of the city center after a few minutes, then climbed the steps before barreling through the front doors.
His Administrator was already there.
“There have been explosions across the city,” she calmly told him, though she did so while wearing a frilly nightgown that was far from appropriate for the workplace. Her hair was also in disarray, though she didn’t seem to acknowledge her appearance. In an emergency, such things were far from important. “There are also pockets of invaders. General Essex has already begun our response to contain them.”
“Good,” Ramik said, daring to hope for the best. But he knew better.
“There is also an army on our doorstep.”
“I see,” he muttered, hurrying along as he tried to ignore the pain in his jaw. She kept pace. “How many?”
“Estimated to be more than twenty thousand.”
“Levels?”
“No reports, but one of our scouts recognized the insignia.”
“And?”
“Heaven’s Bastion.”
Ramik clenched his fist. The faction based out of Hong Kong wasn’t the weakest among the major powers, but they certainly weren’t the strongest, either. However, they were an entirely human force, which meant they’d either hired other races to do their bidding, or they’d allied themselves with someone else.
And Ramik knew in his heart who was behind the attack.
“I need information. Lock down the walls. No one in or out. And inform Essex that we need prisoners.”
“Already done.”
At last, they reached the Branch, which was deserted, save for the Branch Envoy, who looked extremely concerned. Ramik said, “It’s going to be okay, Ingvyd. Our defenses are strong.”
“Yes, sir,” the dwarven woman replied.
“I need to use the messaging system.”
She nodded, then gestured toward the crystalline tree. Ramik approached it without hesitation, then navigated through the menus. In moments, he’d addressed his message to a host of recipients. It was time to see if the alliances he’d cultivated would prove as useful as he’d hoped. If not, Ironshore was going to fall.
Because the Green Mountain Mining Guild had come to make an example of them. Ramik knew that down to his core. Not only was it expected, but it was the only thing that made sense. He could only hope they hadn’t send their best or their brightest. If they had, then there was nothing the people of Ironshore could do.