Pele?!
If he had a body, Wepwawet would have fought against the urge to slam his head against the nearest wall. What were the odds that the only volcanic goddess in his class would lead a civilization called Lavaland?! How much more obvious of a choice could it have been?!
I should have seen it coming, Wepwawet thought in annoyance. Observing the meeting with General Peridot through his Champions’ eyes had answered some of his questions and brought new concerns. The threat of war, not so much.
Why would Pele ask her civilization to seize western Verglane?
It could be anything. Pele could have issued the order before Miss Athena asked for a truce and the change had yet to make its way down the command chain, or maybe she had no idea one of her classmates led Verglane and would cancel the invasion upon learning Wepwawet was her neighbor.
Or maybe she just didn’t care.
Much as Wepwawet loathed that possibility, Artemis’ point stood. Pele might have simply decided to grab as many resources and followers as she could before the Titan Incursion. Wepwawet didn’t know her well enough to tell. The Egyptian Pantheon never had much diplomatic relations with the Polynesian gods, whether as allies or enemies, and Pele spent most of her own time in class hanging out with other goddesses like Ishtar or Axommama rather than his own friend group. He had heard she was the feisty sort of deity, but little else. At least his direct neighbor wasn’t a titan stooge, so the possibility of a diplomatic settlement remained on the table for now.
Nonetheless, peace was only as strong as the weapons protecting it.
Wepwawet could always challenge Pele to a small-scaled B&C godly battle game in order to avoid a full-blown war of annihilation, though this would carry certain risks. First of all, it would still involve a battle of Champions and Miracles, so whoever had the best of those would start with a significant advantage.
Second, Pele might outright refuse a Godly Battle. Wepwawet and her stood as equal-ranked deities from different Pantheons, unlike with that mystery goddess, so both deities had to agree on the wagers and victory conditions. Pele might decide to leverage her country’s greater military might to either crush Verglane or force it into giving up painful concessions.
Wepwawet couldn’t agree to Peridot’s ultimatum either. Besides the loss of territory, no mortal would respect a god who allowed another’s followers to walk all over his worshipers. Sagesse’s reaction also showed him that Verglane’s inhabitants wouldn’t lay down and surrender to the magmorians either. They would fight for their lands and autonomy.
I need to recruit more troops fast, Wepwawet thought. Peridot had given Verglane’s people roughly a month to answer his demands. Wepwawet still had time to prepare and bolster his forces. Roynimalia could provide men. I’ll send a delegation there as soon as Sagesse returns to Narc, and fortify my strongholds until then.
Victoire had also mentioned a certain Glarmes military order with enough military forces to assist Narc when Jasper first attacked them. Surely they would have to help against a full-blown invasion of their country.
Locating more Altars was now a top priority too. Narc’s people and his Idol provided Wepwawet six mana points per day, and the burgeoning community around the Altar three more. He had to subtract two from his Doctrines’ maintenance cost, so he had a total of seven mana points per day to spend.
I could fill out my reserve in roughly two weeks time if I use my Miracles sparingly, Wepwawet calculated. It would let me complete a quest and build up a war chest to spend in a pinch. The more Altars I can collect, the better.
Wepwawet checked on Goreville through his Champion’s eyes. Thankfully, Peridot had been as good as his word and allowed the delegation to leave his citadel unmolested. The werewolf and Sagesse should return to Narc in a few days’ time; at which point Wepwawet would send them southeast to visit Roynimalia. He had sensed an Altar in that direction too, so he could kill two falcons with one stone.
Wepwawet turned his attention back to Boisblanc Forest. His Animal Kingdom Doctrine had let him take over most animals in the woods and set them to work. A small army of arctic hares dug burrows at the Icefall’s base to thaw out the Champion trapped within, while beavers chewed down trees that reindeer helped drag back to the camp. Weasels dug trenches, moose collected driftwood, and musk oxen shed underwool with the help of their teeth. Wepwawet even enlisted a few seals to fish food from the nearby river.
Of course, he ensured his new minions retained their homes, took breaks, and enjoyed a steady supply of lettuce. He was a god of scouting and hunting, not animal abuse!
More than that, Wepwawet had already put the Idol-Altar teleportation pathway to use by calling workers from Narc to settle their sister settlement. The connection worked both ways: Icefall would collect timber which would be shipped back to Wepwawet’s capital, and Narc’s mines would provide all the ore the new settlement required. All in all, turning Icefall into a proper fortified town shouldn’t take too long.
It was nice to begin with resources rather than having to start from scratch for once.
But Pele had so much more than me from day one, Wepwawet thought. If a general miles away from his country knew about her, then he had to assume all of Lavaland now bent the knee to her. Why did she get to start in a militarized monarchy while I began in a village?! This unjust! This is unfair!
He hoped that this bastard Horus started his civilization on hard mode too and shared some of his pain.
At least Wepwawet had good and loyal followers. He had been toying with what kind of Obedience he wanted to teach his future priests before settling on one exercise that should both be easy enough for most to perform, and encourage the kind of mindset required for a soldier of the faith.
His choice made, Wepwawet projected his voice through both his Idol and Altar, his words echoing across his entire realm of Influence.
“Citizens of Verglane!” he said, immediately sensing hundreds of gazes turning towards his statues. “Through your toil and faith, you have proven yourself worthy of divine knowledge! Listen well, for I shall now teach you a secret prayer passed down from the heavens themselves!”
Wepwawet had spent hours thinking about this ritual, and was especially proud of it.
“Each day, you must sit in front of a small wolf-shaped shrine dedicated to me,” he said. “You may build these shrines from anything; branches, stones, mud, whatever you find laying around and without use. Then, you must reflect on the sacred virtues of duty, knowledge, and bravery, which I honor.”
There, simple enough. It would be an easy enough task that encouraged his followers to raise shrines everywhere and thus spread awareness of Wepwawet’s existence.
“Follow this ritual with a prayer, and though whether or not I answer it shall depend on your character, I shall always listen! The most faithful among you will receive a blessing worthy of their piety!”
As in, those with the aptitude and dedication for divine magic would soon learn how to cast basic Prayer spells. Wepwawet would swiftly approach the best of those worshippers and turn them into his clergy’s first members to supplement his Champions.
Quest: Shepherd of Many Flocks I, completed! You can now fuel Prayer spells for divine classes such as Clerics, Oracles, and Paladins!
New Quest: Shepherd of Many Flocks II
Have your followers build you a temple in your honor.
Reward: Animism Miracle.
Wepwawet loved to be rewarded for what he was planning to do for free anyways, since he had already included one such location in his architectural plans for Narc and Icefall.
The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
Wepwawet then searched for Victoire to complete her Rank-Up.
Surely she had gotten over whatever bothered her by now.
They were pieces on a board.
That horrifying existential realization wouldn’t leave Victoire’s mind no matter how hard she tried to suppress it. Seeing the board had already planted doubt in her head, but studying the mystery witch’s puppet pieces and issue with Renarde’s blessing had deepened her fears.
Why would a god capable of conjuring a giant tower of ice from thin air and command armies of animals have a limit on how many spells they could empower a Champion with? Such arbitrary boundaries didn’t make sense to Victoire at first, but if their world was a game with rules to follow…
And what should she make of Lord Wepwawet’s new order?
“Is this shrine sufficient, Milady?” Filou asked her once he had completed his own construction: a rather shoddy, wolf-shaped snowman with branches for hands and stones for ears. “D-do you think Lord Wepwawet will be mad about the lack of eyes?”
“I have no idea, Filou,” Victoire replied. She couldn’t help but find the order bizarre in the first place.
They had spent most of the day following their god’s orders to raise a new settlement around the Icefall; a task which Victoire found herself less than productive at completing. Wintresse had taken command of the construction site around the ice tower and proved surprisingly adept at it. The enchantress carried herself with the easy confidence of a born leader unused to being told what to do and clearly had some experience in military command.
Nonetheless, most human and wereling workers had stopped for the hour to follow through with Lord Wepwawet’s newest divine commandment. A veritable forest of makeshift branch constructs and snowmen now stood at the cliff’s base, though Victoire doubted that this army would frighten the magmorians.
Even Lavaland’s armies didn’t worry her as much as her god nowadays. The fear of an invasion paled before existential anguish.
Have we always been pieces on a board? Victoire pondered while studying Filou’s snowman. Are we toys thinking of ourselves as real? Or are we real people, and an unfathomably powerful being simply decided to play with us one day?
She couldn’t tell which option she found most ominous.
“Has something been bothering you, Milady?” Filou asked, her squire’s eyes brimming with concern. “You’ve been acting very subdued since our last battle. This is not like you.”
“Does it show so much?” Victoire sighed. A knight shouldn’t make their squire worry. “Seeing Lord Wepwewet fight that giant shadow shook my resolve more than I thought.”
“I felt the same,” Filou confessed, his ears lowering slightly. “We looked so small, and that shadow was so big…” The wererabbit shook his head and snapped out of his morose mood. “But then I remembered that we only won thanks to you, Milady! We still contributed to a battle of giants!”
“I suppose we did,” Victoire replied, though she pondered how much their victory mattered in the grand scheme of things. “I’m beginning to wonder why we’re fighting in the first place.”
“I don’t understand, Milady.” Filou frowned, his eyes full of innocence. “We’ve been protecting the good people of Verglane from magmorians, and to prepare for the coming darkness Lord Wepwawet warned us against.”
Does that ‘incoming darkness’ even exist at all? The shadowy entity that fought Lord Wepwawet had looked powerful enough, but for all that Victoire knew this battle had been no more than a board game match between two entities whose power she couldn’t even begin to comprehend. The magmorians are a genuine threat to our people though, I can’t deny that.
Whatever the nature of her world or Lord Wepwawet’s intentions didn’t change the fact that her life—and those of the people under her care—felt real enough to Victoire. She wouldn’t stop fighting on their behalf, no matter her doubts.
Filou stared back from his mistress to his snowman altar. “How about asking Lord Wepwawet?”
Victoire blinked. “Excuse me?”
“That’s what prayers are for, no?” Filou asked. “If you’re having questions, why not ask Lord Wepwawet? Milady is special to him, so I’m sure he will answer.”
That’s what I’m afraid of, Filou. I fear that he will tell us we’re indeed pieces, or that he’ll get bored and leave us to rot. Victoire internally scoffed at her thoughts. Since when had she become such a coward? Kale would be laughing at me right now.
“You’re right, I should do that,” Victoire said before spotting Viviane, Lourson, and Mistouffe walking towards them. The latter two had teleported all the way from Narc to do a survey of the area around Icefall. “So? Did you find anything?”
“We can build a few sawmills along the river to the east,” Lourson replied. “We could clear part of the forest to build a lumberyard or a farm in a short amount of time with my new tools.”
“I’ve also found shinies under a rock!” Mistouffe boasted upon presenting Victoire and Filou with her newest treasure within her paw: a piece of amber. “I bet we’ll find amber mines nearby!”
“Amber is nice, but lumber and farmlands will be more immediately useful to us,” Victoire decided. “Would Roynimalia allow us to exploit these lands, Viviane?”
“I don’t think it’ll be an issue,” Viviane reassured her. “It’s not like we could exploit the area back when Wintresse was calling the shots here. If anything, I’m sure the council will be happy to let you handle her and trade with the new settlement.”
“We’ll be sure to thank them for it,” Viviane replied. She glanced at Wintresse, who guided workers in digging a hole into the Icefall; Lord Wepwawet said a powerful ally might be imprisoned there and ordered his followers to free it. “I’ll see if Wintresse can use her spells to clear the land. She said one of them could multiply our lumberjacks’ strength.”
Lourson squinted at the Changeling with a skeptical gaze. “Are you certain that we can trust that one, Victoire?”
“No,” Victoire replied bluntly. The changeling’s predatory presence never failed to send chills down her spine. “But I trust her greed and sense of self-preservation. She’s a good organizer, and wise enough not to challenge Lord Wepwawet.”
“And if she tries anything, she’ll earn herself an arrow to the neck,” Viviane added. “I’ll always keep her back in my sight!”
“Oh, oh, when will I earn new powers?” Mistouffe asked with enthusiasm. “I want a new tail like Renarde too, or wings!”
“That can be arranged, Mistouff!” Lord Wepwawet’s voice called out from behind Victoire, startling her. The god’s projection appeared in all of his divine glory. “Keep working hard, and I shall reward your good toil accordingly one day!”
“Neat!” Mistouffe scratched the back of her head. “Do I have to fight someone for it though, Boss? I’m not afraid to use my claws, but my words are sharper.”
“True,” Lourson said. “Only those who fought on Lord Wepwawet’s behalf enjoyed his blessing.”
“Not necessarily,” Lord Wepwawet reassured her. “Battle is not the only way to earn experience and benedictions. Your feats are what matters, whether on the field of battle or behind a stall.”
Experience? The term bothered Victoire. Does he assign powers based on his Champions’ performances?
“Anyway, I’ve received Goreville’s report,” Lord Wepwawet declared, immediately earning Victoire’s full attention. “I won’t lie, I fear that Verglane’s conflict with the magmorians will escalate further in the coming months. We can expect nothing short of total war should the worst come to pass.”
“W-war?” Filou repeated with a trembling voice. “T-they’ll send more raiders?”
“They’ll send an army,” Victoire replied, her jaw clenching. She had been fearing this outcome for weeks. “So Jasper and his band were little more than scouts.”
Lord Wepwawet nodded sharply. “I will defend these lands with all of my power, but a house divided cannot stand,” he said. Victoire had the feeling he took that quote from somewhere else. “We need every spear in the country pointing at the same target to prevail.”
“You can count on Roynimalia’s, Your Godliness,” Viviane said with enthusiasm. “The magmorians will find an arrow waiting behind every patch of snow!”
Victoire bit her tongue upon sensing her god’s gaze on her. She could already tell what was on his mind. “You wish to call upon the Glarmes, Lord Wepwawet.”
“Yes,” he replied. “I’m told you stood among their numbers.”
“I did,” Victoire confirmed while shifting in place. The subject always caused her no end of embarrassment. “I learned about warcraft from them for years, until I left.”
“Good for you,” Viviane said with a scoff. “I can’t stand ‘human-only’ people.”
Lourson raised an eyebrow. “Human only?”
“You didn’t know?” Viviane snorted in disdain. “Those guys don’t let werelings join them. They’re not even allowed into their ‘holy’ city!”
“They’re still kind enough to trade with us when they have no other choice,” Mistouffe said with heavy sarcasm. “Coins know no barriers!”
“Neither does hypocrisy,” Victoire said with a sigh. “Their approach to interracial relationships was one of the reasons I split off from them.”
“I see…” Lord Wepwawet replied. He didn’t sound impressed by the Glarmes’ policies. “Nonetheless, they must be quite the talented warriors to train someone like you, Victoire.”
“The Glarmes are the finest fighting force in Verglane,” Victoire said. Talking about them reminded her of her history lessons. “They used to be the Kingdom of Valentine’s royal guard… back when it was still a kingdom, that is.”
“Uh huh, uh huh,” Lord Wepwawet replied while nodding. “And then?”
He has no idea of what I’m talking about, but he doesn’t want to look foolish. Victoire decided to play along. “When King Lefou died and the monarchy fell, the Glarmes fled north to Verglane after Stahlheim and Lavaland refused them asylum. They spent twenty years roaming the land until they discovered the Sacred Source beyond the Glacis Mountains and founded the city of Promesse there.”
“The Sacred Source?” Lord Wepwawet’s spirit stroked his chin. “Did they find an Altar?”
“No… maybe?” Now that Victoire thought about it, the Source did serve as a potent source of magic for the Glarmes to draw upon. “The Sacred Source is a holy place, a lake of heat and salt in the heart of winter itself; a gift from a great creature only a few are blessed enough to see.”
“Now I’m truly curious,” Lord Wepwawet said. “Even if they won’t allow werelings into their ranks, surely they will see the wisdom in repelling the magmorians with us instead of waiting for them to show up at their doorsteps. A source of hot water is bound to conceal a magma chamber.”
The thought had crossed Victoire’s mind the moment they discovered the hot spring beneath Narc. The similarities with the Sacred Source were too great for her to ignore.
The Glarmes were strong, but could they repel the entire magmorian army on their lonesome? Almost certainly not. Nonetheless… Victoire knew them well enough to guess that they would be tempted to fortify their city and leave the country to die rather than take the field alongside werelings.
A powerful noise thundered in the distance, startling everyone.
“Grudu!”
The voice resonated through the Icefall, causing everyone to turn in its direction. A small army of rodent diggers fled the tunnel that Wintresse had ordered them to carve into the Icefall.
It seemed they had managed to free the mysterious wereling from his icy prison.
“GRUDUUUU!”
And it didn’t sound particularly grateful.
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