RTA Book 2: Against Ruin's Fate - Chapter 3

Lady Carolyn Isendia stood at the head of the long oak table, watching her commanders file into the Council Chamber. Morning light streamed through the high windows, illuminating motes of dust and the detailed maps spread across the polished surface. The room still bore scars of Goran's fall—a patched section of wall, a mismatched stone in the fireplace—but like the city itself, it was functional again. Different, but alive.

Tyrus hadn’t cared for the room. Hadn’t cared for the administrative building much at all. Which had thankfully left it usable if in disrepair.

Commander Grant arrived last, shutting the heavy door behind him with a soft thud. 

Carolyn scanned their faces, worn and tired from their campaigns.

Grant commanded the third company, Vass, the second. Teller the fifth. Irene commanding the fourth was still returning home with her company. Everett commanding all the companies and the first directly sat to her right side.

"Thank you all for coming," she began. "Before we discuss company matters, I wanted you to hear our intelligence from the capital."

She nodded to Everett, Commander of the Isendia Mercenaries and First Company. He activated the sound talisman in the center of the table.

"Jed," Carolyn greeted him. "You're clear to speak. Everyone present is trusted."

"Good morning, Lady Carolyn," Jed replied, his voice slightly distorted by the talisman's magic. "The capital continues to be... entertaining."

The commanders exchanged glances. Jed had been an inspired choice for their agent in Eskon. As Len's brother, he was both trustworthy and possessed of similar insights, but where Len was direct, Jed excelled at moving through social circles undetected.

"Define 'entertaining,'" Carolyn prompted.

“The entire palace is buzzing about Princess Bethany's sudden interest in poultry. Three days ago, she personally collected ten chickens from and took them to her father's private chambers. She remained there for several hours. According to the rumors there was chanting, or yelling after she entered,” Jed said.

"Unusual how?" asked Commander Vass, a square-jawed woman who led their second company.

"Chanting. Flashes of light under the door. One servant claims to have heard the king's voice, though that's unconfirmed." Jed's expression turned serious. "The whispers of witchcraft have already begun, of course.”

“Magic has spread through the world and everyone can see their experience and stats. What do you think that happened?” Carolyn asked.

“She went into his private quarters with chickens.”

"Continue," she said. King Eardin’s long illness had created the power vacuum that his sons were now fighting to fill.

"The palace has been a hornet's nest since then. The princes, already positioning themselves for succession, have intensified their efforts." Jed paused. "Prince Haron hosted a hunting expedition three days ago. Houses attending included Marrel, Timorin, Vaspar, and six lesser houses. Meanwhile, Prince Dalen held a banquet the same evening, with Houses Keffin, Laurel, Orlin, and several merchant guilds in attendance."

"The traditional divisions," noted Everett. "Military houses with Haron, commerce with Dalen."

"Precisely," Jed confirmed. "But there's movement between camps. House Bevrin, traditionally aligned with the military faction, sent representatives to Dalen's banquet. And three merchant families previously loyal to Dalen have been meeting privately with Haron's people."

Carolyn studied the political map of Plynthia laid out on the table, mentally noting the shifting allegiances. Power in the kingdom had always been balanced between military might and commercial wealth. A civil war would devastate both.

"What of material preparations?" she asked.

"Extensive," Jed replied grimly. "Weapons, armor, horses—prices have doubled in a month. Food stores are being purchased in bulk, allegedly for 'winter preparations,' though autumn has barely begun. Iron has become particularly valuable, with smiths working day and night on orders from both factions."

Commander Teller, a veteran of three border campaigns, grunted. "They're preparing for war while pretending they're not. Seen enough wars to know what you do to prepare for them."

"There's more," Jed continued. "Seven people have been murdered in the past two weeks—not nobles or military men, but information brokers, messengers, a scribe who worked for multiple houses. The official word is random criminality, but these were targeted killings. Both sides are eliminating potential leaks."

"And what of your safety?" Carolyn asked. Jed had asked for the position—though she didn’t doubt the hell that Len would unleash if anything was to happen to him. The stories she’d heard from Lieutenant Adrian after the Crystal Dungeon. Had painted a clear picture of his abilities.

"I'm just a craftsman working odd jobs. Hardly worth notice. Besides, I've been making friends in the lower city—craftsmen, laborers, the people who keep Eskon running. There's a lot of displaced workers looking for employment with all the creatures appearing across the nation. They work in the homes the nobles live in. Hear things they shouldn’t."

"We need information—don’t do anything reckless," Carolyn paused. "It might be worth dropping casual mentions of Goran's rebuilding efforts. Our fields being cleared, soldiers dealing with creatures. Make us sound like we're recovering, but not rapidly enough to be interesting."

“Get them into a contract before they can tell someone the truth of what’s going on,” Jed sounded out the idea. “I like it. Easy enough to go with the struggling farmers trying to reclaim land? I can sell that story. Say that the companies are coming back to reduce cost—man the fields?” Jed asked.

“Perfect, we have trained soldiers but we’re desperate.” Carolyn said.

“Might have a few of the nobles interested in hiring out mercenaries to deal with their issues. Get some coin and ears in the right places. Have to be careful about not supporting one more than another unless you want to pick a side?” Jed asked.

The boy’s sharp.

“Neutrality is our best weapon for now,” Carolyn said.

“Very well. I also looked into the previous Treasurer of Goran. Miss Eren established herself very quietly but has financial interests in a surprising number of businesses throughout Plynthia now."

Several commanders shifted in their seats. Treasurer Eren had been a feature of these meetings in the past. They knew her as a friend.

“How is she doing?” Carolyn asked, her voice softening. Eren had been a confident, an advisors, and friend.

“She lives a quiet life. I’ve not been able to unravel much. The businesses that she works with are fiercely loyal. She looked after them when they were thrown out by Tyrus. They then hired on others on hard times,” Jed said. “She doesn’t live a lavish life, she has a nice home, guards and spends her time talking to the different business leaders and moving through the city. She has to be connected to everyone that’s worth knowing. Though she tracks in the commoner circles—doesn’t deal with the nobles.”

"Keep an eye on her movements, but don't risk approaching directly. We’re going to have to be careful about how we approach her. Anything else from the capital?"

"That covers the highlights," Jed replied. "I'll send a more detailed report through our usual channels."

"Thank you. Be careful, Jed."

“Yes Lady Carolyn.”

The sound talisman stopped glowing as the connection ended.

Carolyn straightened, turning her attention to the commanders. "Now, let's discuss our own position. Everett how is First Company and Goran?”

The older man cleared his throat. "First Company is at seventy percent strength, Lady Carolyn. Equipment remains substandard, but training has improved morale. We've been conducting daily patrols to the north and east, clearing minor creature incursions before they reach the farms."

She nodded, moving her gaze to the next commander. "Commander Vass, Second Company?"

One by one, the reports came in. Second Company patrolling the western approaches. Third still rebuilding after heavy losses. Fifth going through training.

"What news of Fourth Company?" Carolyn asked, turning to Everett.

"Captain Irene's last message came three weeks ago from Karesh. Her company completed their contract with House Mar and await further orders. However, securing passage for seventy fighters and their equipment across the Narrow Sea would cost approximately eighteen thousand gold—a significant part of our treasury.”

“How long has she been deployed?” Carolyn asked.

“Since six months after Tyrus took over,” Everett said.

The others grimaced, Vass shook her head at the information.

“How’s she kept up morale?” Grant asked.

“I have the feeling that she’s not been just doing the jobs she was sent out there to do by Tyrus. Eighteen thousand gold is quite a bit more than you’d need to move seventy troops,” Everett said. “Also the families of those in third company moved away slowly over the years.”

“We will find the money and we will bring them home,” Carolyn said. “Though that will deplete our reserves severely.”

“Food and material prices are up, they’ll eat in as well,” Teller raised.

“You’d be surprised with what our farmers can do,” Carolyn said. “I am told that we will have our first harvest in a few weeks.”

“In autumn?” Teller asked.

“Things are changing,” Carolyn gave him a reproving glance.

He frowned and made a note down on the papers in front of him. He had only been back a few days and was settling in.

“Which brings us to finances,” Carolyn took out a sheet of paper. She needed more qualified advisors and staff. The good ones had been driven out or gone with Eren.

She’d been relying on and utilizing the supply and pay staff of the Mercenaries, though they operated military units, not cities.

It boiled down to the fact that they were building a lot, thus paying a lot of people. The housing drive had relieved a lot of the pressure. Though they needed to inject money or resources into the economy. They had too little of anything.

“The Crystal dungeon has become a boon. The materials that we recover there are selling well with our own people. Also the meat from the creatures is supplementing our own food supplies. Things are slim right now, but we must invest in ourselves. It has been made clear to me that we need to make the Isendia Mercenaries the premier military organization in Plynthia. If civil war erupts we will need them. We need to prioritize what to do with the soldiers, gear, training and so forth.”

A heated discussion broke out among the commanders, each advocating for their priorities—more weapons, better armor, expanded training grounds, reinforced defenses for the outer farms. Carolyn let them debate, watching the dynamics at play. These were good officers, loyal to her family, but they brought different perspectives on how best to rebuild their forces.

The communication talisman on her wrist suddenly warmed against her skin, interrupting her thoughts. Only a handful of people had talismans linked directly to hers. She rose from her seat, silencing the debate with a raised hand.

"Continue this discussion. I need to take this," she said, stepping away from the table and toward the window alcove for privacy.

They dove right back into their discussion.

She activated her talisman.

“Hey Grandma!” Rick’s voice carried through the talisman.

“I’m guessing that your mission went well?”

“Uhh, sort of. We've had some excitement here. Dungeon decided to evolve, took out our firebase in the process."

“What?”

“The dungeon evolved, was so powerful it triggered a mana storm. It carved up the place, slammed into the mountain and bounced off heading north west. It destroyed the firebase we built.”

Her heart sank. "Casualties?"

"None, thankfully. Some injuries. We're rebuilding now, but it's slow going. We're working on the turntable to get the train facing back toward you, should get that done by tonight. Focus is on getting up some defenses. The creatures are heavily mutated up here and the mana density will start affecting people soon." A crash sounded in the background, and Rick turned to shout something unintelligible before returning to her. "Sorry about that. How are things on your end?"

Carolyn quickly summarized Jed's report, the company statuses, and their financial situation.

Rick was silent for a moment, then unexpectedly laughed. "Ten chickens, you said? In the king's chambers? That's brilliant."

"Brilliant?" Carolyn frowned. "The palace thinks it's witchcraft."

Rick gave a belly laugh. "Guess its close enough. You kill ten chickens, and that's enough experience points for a normal person to level up once.”

Carolyn’s eyes widened, lowering her voice. “What would that mean?”

“You can’t pick what your experience goes into when you start. It goes right into mana. The king should have a level one in mana. If he can circulate that through his body, then his body recovers faster. He kills some more chickens or takes up a skill—he can put a few points into body. How many things you think he has in there that are worth a million gold?” Rick sounded contemplative.

Carolyn's mind raced with the implications. "If the king is recovering..."

"It changes everything," Rick confirmed. "Both princes lose their claim to emergency powers. The factions that have been forming will be in disarray. Some will abandon their prince if they think the king might remember who was positioning to replace him."

"Making the situation even more unstable," she concluded.

Rick nodded. "Perfect time for you to stay completely neutral. When they try to draw you in, which they will, plead poverty and focus on your own problems. 'My lands were overrun by creatures, my people are starving, I can't possibly take sides in court politics right now.' Will you buy my weapons and gear?"

“What? Sell our gear?”

“We’re already building weapons and gear that’s a grade or two higher at the firebase. Sell what we have onto the different factions—take the profits to stock up the treasury. You sell them our junk, make us look even weaker and profit.”

“You think that the civil war will still happen?”

“It’d take a hell of a thing to undo all that the princes have been building,” Rick said. “Nerves and fear might bring it up faster. Keeps them distracted.

Carolyn considered this. "The princes' conflict is a distraction?"

"A useless waste of resources," Rick said bluntly. "But one we can exploit while we build our own strength. The real threats are still coming, and neither prince has a clue what they're facing."

“You’re talking about civil war,” Carolyn hissed without raising her voice.

“I’m talking about the survival of the people I care about,” Rick’s voice was flat. "Let the princes play their games of succession. When the real storm came, they’ll find themselves unprepared—while Goran will be ready.”

Her husband had sworn himself to the throne. Though these creatures, the dungeons, the mana storms—these were the true enemies, not ambitious nobles. Len and Rick had seen the apocalypse once before, and they were fighting to prevent it, not to secure some petty political advantage.

“We swore an oath,” Carolyn said.

“If the King needs a place to retreat to he’s welcome to come to Goran. In the meantime we hire on everyone who wants to get the hell away from that shit. We’ll need to head to Velkaris as soon as we’re back. We need their black market connections and information network. Route everything through them.”

"You can get the train turned around tonight?" she asked.

"If everything goes well. Then we start tunneling back toward Goran immediately. It's not just about reconnecting," Rick added, his voice growing serious. "We need a secure supply line. The creatures that will emerge from this evolved dungeon will be beyond anything Yorel has seen. We need to keep it controlled. It will also allow us to feed water to the city and iron. Thankfully the shrapnel Len pulled out of my ass was mana stone. We can use that on the train and tunneller to give them both full power. Also got several cores from creatures we killed and some other stone shards throughout the place to chuck in."

“Shrapnel?” Carolyn asked.

“Long story ended in a big boom. The usual!”

A commotion from the council table drew Carolyn's attention. The commanders were getting excited, Commander Vass gesturing emphatically at the map the others nodding along. A thread of an idea uniting them all.

"I should get back to my meeting," Carolyn said. "Keep me updated on your progress."

“Will do Grandma!” The sound talisman deactivated.

She returned to the table, the company commanders turning towards her.

“So, what have you figured out?”

“We need to skill up our troops as fast as possible. Get them working in the factories, in the fields, give them plenty of skills and ability slots to build upon. Thankfully we have the information from Len and Rick on how to make them as strong as possible,” Everett said. He pointed to a map of Goran on the table—updated with Rick’s new city plans, the fields and extruders drawing up raw materials.

“Just like how we’ve got the skill up in the old rifle factory—we run the troops through Goran,” Everett continued. “Work on their strength working at the extruders, hauling plows for the farmers, casting spells to cleanse the water through the city, or water the fields. We skill up the soldiers and use them as a labor force. We work it into their training. Then they go off to the Crystal dungeon. Those that were there before leave a few squads to ease them into things. Then they return to Goran leaving the units there to keep raiding the dungeon. We combine training with activities that will earn us a profit.”

“Make sure that they spend some time in the factories learning how to make their own gear. I want to replace all of their gear. We’ll sell off the old stuff to the factions looking for it across Plynthia,” Carolyn said.

“If civil war is coming, those weapons could be used against us,” Commander Grant said.

Carolyn looked around the table, meeting each commander's eyes. "The world is changing. Plynthia stands on the brink of civil war, while we face threats they don't even comprehend. We will not choose sides in their conflict—we will surpass them both."

She tapped on a map encompassing Plynthia, her finger resting on the Stained Mountain Range to the north. "Len and Rick are rebuilding the firebase in Halem Forest they’re manufacturing weapons much stronger than the ones we have. They’re working on a tunnel that will cut through the mountain range right to us. We'll have direct access to Halem, to iron deposits, water, and high-density mana—resources that will allow us to craft weapons beyond anything the princes are fielding."

Understanding dawned on Commander Grant's weathered face. "We sell conventional weapons to both sides..."

"While keeping the advanced technology for ourselves," Carolyn confirmed. "We become invaluable to both factions, profit from their conflict, and prepare for the real battles to come."

The room fell silent as her commanders absorbed this strategy. It was bold, perhaps even risky, but it played to their strengths while avoiding entanglement in a war that wasn't theirs to fight.

"There will be challenges," she continued. "Recruiting skilled craftspeople. Training our own. Developing supply lines that can't be easily disrupted. But we have advantages they don't—knowledge of this system, how it works, access to a dungeon—possibly two. Let the princes and their people waste their strength against one another. We will endure; we will build."

Commander Vass nodded slowly. "It's ambitious."

"Necessarily so," Carolyn replied. "Everett will distribute detailed assignments to each company. For now, I need assessments of your most skilled crafters, any soldiers with affinity for mana manipulation or other skills. As the telegraph lines are down, we are the only group with real-time communications. We’ll need teams and spies to gather information. As we’ve locked down our information—others can as well."

As the meeting dispersed, Carolyn remained at the map table, tracing the route between Goran and the mountain pass where Len and Rick worked. So much depended on reestablishing that connection—not just supplies and reinforcements, but the advanced knowledge they needed.

Everett approached after the last commander departed. "That was quite a change in strategy, my lady. May I ask what prompted it?"

Carolyn considered how to explain. "Perspective, Everett. While Plynthia's nobles position their pieces on the board, they fail to see that the board itself is changing beneath them."

Through the window, she could see Goran spread below—still bearing scars from its fall, but with scaffolding rising around new homes. Smoke rose from the smelter. Blade edge straight roads cutting through untouched ground. Not just rebuilding what was lost, but a new city rising from Goran’s bones.

“You are putting a lot of faith into them,” Everett said.

“One is my grandson. The other is a man he trusts as I do you. The information they have, the belief they have. They don’t need us. If they see that Goran isn’t working, they’ll go to Velkaris—and with those contracts, we’d lose everyone that makes up Goran. We report to Len and Rick now.”

“We swore an oath to Eardin,” Everett said.

“Well, we’ll have to be strong enough that if he asks for it we can actually help him,” Carolyn said. "They’re fighting for a legacy. We fight so there’s still a world left to remember one.”