War of the Races Ch. 38

"Was my second in command," Aalyn interrupted, "Captain Hasnolf Rivid of the Razor Guard was put in charge of the Annolstad and Aettdrahael companies."

"Yes," Forelain signed sharply which Fjallindae interpreted as prim dissatisfaction, before continuing, "Annolstad and Aettadrhael companies took the brunt of Hlina and Orsa's Stone Bullets and Huxian's Foxfire. Aside from the ten survivors from Aettadrhael, forty soldiers survived from House Annolstad most of which are common soldiers and personal guard."

"All told, how many survivors are there?" I asked.

Forelain made a show of looking down at a piece of parchment in her hand before answering, "Out of five thousand soldiers that left Idavollr to raze the Valelands, there are six hundred and twelve souls remain alive."

"And what of the priestesses and camp followers?" I asked.

Forelain nodded as she referenced her parchment once more before answering, "The total number of priestesses that started with this army was one thousand. From that number three Initiates and two priestesses were murdered. Two priestesses and one Initiate of that lot were resurrected. That same night four hundred and fifty-five priestesses were abducted by renegades. That brought the total remaining priestesses to five hundred and forty-three. Out of that number, Lord Viridian, you captured one hundred and eighty-two before they were slaughtered by your wives."

Fjallindae paused in her recitation of Forelain's communication as the Matron paused for effect, then proceeded, "As for the camp followers. There were exactly one thousand camp followers with one thousand slaves and one thousand sven'dahl to carry supplies. So, three thousand total. Of the craftsmen and slaves only forty-five females and males were kidnapped while a hundred and fifty svan'dahl were stolen by renegades. There were no losses during the battle. So, there are two thousand eight hundred and five skilled craftsmen, slaves, and sven'dahl taken by you as spoils of war."

"Good. Excellent!" I replied graciously while Matron Forelain nodded her acceptance of my praise.

It was remarkable how decimating an army that outnumbered us something like one hundred and thirty battle-trained and hardened soldiers to one me and thirty-two wives, three of which were laden with infants, had humbled the arrogant Matron. I hadn't even had to say a thing to her, she had simply taken to referring to me as Lord Viridian and affording me as much respect as I had ever seen my father receive from his advisors. It was very agreeable to me to let her continue as she was and in return, I gave her the respect due her station among her people and put the remnants of the svartalf army under her authority.

With Aalyn removed as General of the svartalf army and now nothing more than a common prisoner beside her fellow svartalf warriors, Matron Forelain was the only viable solution to a lack of leadership and organization I needed for the svartalf detainees, and she was taking to her assignment with zeal. Within hours she had craftsmen and slaves alike organized and working to care for everyone's needs.

Later that evening, after the evening meal, I sent Burza to Valeheim to report to my father what had transpired and requested that he send the militia to take the greater number of our captives into custody.

----(!)----

"The common soldiers you can do with as you wish," Forelain explained through Fjallindae the next morning when Burza returned with orders from Summerset to stay put, that he was on his way, "Of course, you can do as you wish with the noble-born as well, my lord. As far as Idavollr knows we are completing our mission, and once we return they will know only what we tell them. However, if you wish to ransom them for treaties or even alliances, it is best for you to keep them close at hand."

We were standing this time in Forelain's large tent around a table that had been erected early in the morning by a jarndvergr who looked like he knew his craft well. He was a block of a fellow with a thick beard and mustaches and a head full of dark golden blonde hair with hints of red and silver. His eyes were a fiery red, and his skin was the color of dark gray slate. His assistant was a slim svartalf female with larger than normal breasts, each much more than a handful, but otherwise had the lithe form of her people. She had long pointed ears that hung out over her shoulders, also common to the svartalfar, and a thick mane of golden strawberry sunburst hair with a platinum cast to it. Surprisingly, they were married and had six children at home with relatives in Idavollr.

On top of the table was a map of the region. Forelain stood, her belly big and prominent this morning, front and center across from me. Beside her were Fjallindae and Sinaan. Ra'Shaal stood beside Sinaan, and Aalyn, Thurdain, and Illglan stood naked at the end of the table.

Beside me were Glenna and Hlina while Orsa, Tampa, and Huxian quietly nursed the infants behind us. Leandra and Bastet were outside the camp hunting while Coella, Tsukino, and Usagi were gathering wild roots and berries. Arden, the eldest of my avian wives, flew to Sequoia's Grove with two of her sisters to report in person what had transpired to Bartlett and the mayor of Moonlight Burrow, and Sequoia. The rest of my harpy wives searched for and tracked down deserters from the battle that hadn't been found so far.

"Idavollr sent an army to my father's rightful Lordship intent on wiping out every male and female that didn't immediately submit," I said again for the third time, "With all due respect Matron Forelain, I will do as I like with the captives. They are, as you said, all my spoils of war."

Forelain regarded me with shrewd eyes but a flat expression. It was as close to disapproval as she had ever gotten in the last two days since the battle. It was taking Father a lot longer to make the same trek up into the mountains with a militia of some two thousand five hundred warriors that had taken me, Glenna, and Huxian only a day to travel.

Breaking eye contact from her and looking down at the map I continued, "What I need is a viable option for completing our secondary mission. That being the investigation of the Temple of Arachni and the Svartalfar Queendom for the whereabouts of the Oracle of Arachni. Can you help me with that?"

"You have my backing, Lord Viridian," Matron Forelain signed grimly, "I will give you suggestions. I will speak on your behalf, but I can not--I will not betray House Abendroth or Svartalfheim."

Looking from Forelain to Sinaan, Fjallindae, and Ra'Shaal I found them all wearing proud smirks for their Matron's firm stand. I would get no help from them. I had to admit, I found myself admiring her more myself.

Rising to her feet, Aalyn's expression was focused as she answered, "The Sven'dahl Guard has never suffered a loss such as we did the other day. Not since ancient times. Of course, for the most part, our surface raids have been on small villages and animal communities."

"I'm sure Valeheim is a small village compared to Idavollr," I replied in an amused voice.

Aalyn only nodded as she continued her presentation, "Truly, if the Governor had known your mightiness she would have sent an army five times larger quite easily. She has her orders just as I did. No doubt, when word of this defeat reaches her the order to mobilize the entire army will be given. Failure is not something forgiven easily in our culture."

"No forgiveness at all, if you ask me," Hlina offered sarcastically.

"So, there will be no peace?" I mumbled bitterly.

Aalyn shook her head sadly this time while Forelain had a far-off look of someone seeing a great catastrophe coming and was unable to stop it.

"This is a nightmare," Ra'Shaal whispered, apparently foreseeing the same catastrophe as Forelain.

"Agreed," Forelain signed.

"There is only one way to stop this," Aalyn growled.

"What is that?" Sinaan asked, though from the look on his face, he already knew and didn't like the answer.

"Conquest," Aalyn answered.

Four svartalf heads snapped to stare at her in alarm.

"It is the only way," Aalyn added grimly.

"How?" I asked as I shook my head doubtfully, "There is only us. We are not a large or strong military power."

"You, Viridian Vale, and the Oracles are more than a match for most armies," Aalyn said as she gauged everyone's reaction to her declaration, "Also, there is more than one way to conquer your enemies."

"Okay," I conceded, "Tell me your plan."

Aalyn smiled as everyone turned to hear what she would say next.

----(!)----

A continent and an ocean away from Viridian Vale, the Dragon's Spine Mountains, and the defeated and disgraced General Aalyn Abendroth is the beautiful and fertile realm of Asgard. Just a little out of dimensional synchrony and a mirror world away, in the Yellow Realm of the Bifrost also called Midgard in the days of yore when the Firsts fled the Cataclysm in search of the promised Garden of the Gods, Asgard's lands encompass Greenland, Iceland, Ireland, the United Kingdom, and all of Europe from the northern tip of Norway to Ukraine in the east, to Greece, Italy, Spain, and Portugal in the south.

In these lands, many folk live their lives, Aesir, Vanir, Alfari, and Dvergr. There are even a few dragons, but first and foremost Asgard is the land of the Aesir. The land of the Exiles, humans of great strength and longevity equal to the Alfari and Dvergr. None are more proud of their country, and none are more proud than those that live in Asgard, the capital of Asgard.

If only they could see. If only they could pierce the dimensional veil of Bilrost. Then, they would see that they were not the only world, and they would see that Asgard is not the only city. They would see that located in the same spot in Midgard resides the city of Oslo in the country of Norway. They would see Oslo then they would also be able to see the frozen wastes of Niflheim. They would see the molten devastation of Muspelheim. The brokedown shadow city Oslo in Tartarus. And the poisonous vapors of Helheim. Then, they would surely think themselves as gods indeed. For, Asgard sat at the end of the Iaetenfjord rising out of the land like a great golden monolith, like a mountain of golden spires taller than any other building in the world, and spreading out across the land and encircling the Iaetenfjord like the wings of a great eagle in most stunning visage that any world has ever seen.

Amidst its glorious vista and adding to it were small boats and ships of all sizes and models lumber and dart upon the waters of Ieatenfjord. Above, amongst the clouds, skyships both small and large make orderly lines as they travel the Lopt Almannavegr, the sky routes that connect the major cities and many of the larger villages of Asgard. In all the spaces of the heaven where there were no skyships there could be seen the Valkyrie flying with wings of silver or gold, Alfari flight belts, or shoes of sky walking, and Vanir on personal flight discs while some of the more liberal-minded preferred to modify their bodies with wings of all sorts.

Upon the ground, walking along broad colonnaded streets of gold, thousands of people walked. Hundreds of thousands of all sorts. Aesir. Vanir. Alfari. Dvergr. Nyr. Dragon. Iaeten. Each dressed according to their people's customs. Everything was brilliant and beautiful, charming and exotic. However, more beautiful and exotic and wondrous than any other place in all the realms was Valaskjalf, the palace of the king, and within, the throne of the king, Hildskjalf.

Among all the beauty of this golden city, not many could see past its gleaming golden wonder to the fact that those beautiful people of the Prime races were always assisted and attended by enslaved animals of all sorts. Some dressed in uniforms showing House colors or insignias while others were left naked except for a collar marking them as property. Not all Primes owned animals though, these detested the responsibility of caring for animals, and so, kept Dolls to tend to their needs instead.

Female Dolls are by far the most popular model, but there were models for every need or desire. To cater to such desires dolls resemble Humans, Alfari, Dvergr, Iaeten, Dragons, and Nyr. To cater to more perverse proclivities Dolls of both sexes are made to resemble animals and children.

Because of their popularity, female Dolls vary from childlike, to tall and muscular, to every variation of sensual curvaceousness. The male Dolls are just as customizable, however, there is a stigma to owning Dolls. Especially the most attractive ones. If female dolls owned by female Primes then it was assumed they were proper attendants. However, if they were owned by male Primes it was assumed they are sex Dolls playing at being attendants. The same for male dolls. If they were owned by male Primes then it was assumed they are proper attendants, but if they were owned by female Primes then they are Sexdolls.

As is the case throughout all of human history some men care greatly about their reputations while others do not care at all. The same for women. Those men and women who care about their reputations at least outside the halls of the Houses treated opposite sexes with dignity and manners while those that do not care for reputation flaunt their wealth, ego, and possessions including their females whether they be Prime, Animal, or Doll leading to gossip of the worst sort.

Somehow, men whether reputable or not seemed to either ignore or just not fair as badly as women in this matter. A man may be considered a cad but his peers will still associate and do business with him. However, a woman known to keep lovers, especially animals or Dolls as such would be ostracized to the point where some have taken their own lives from shame. But these were all only a symptom of the decay that was eating up Asgard from the inside out.

Aside from the humanoid Dolls, there were those made primarily for the Crafthalls resembling hybrid creations such as the Sven'dahl, Equi'tatus, Bos'taurine, El'dwea with their deer antlers, the larger El'dwea-juk with their elk antlers, and the giant El'dwea-yulkon with their moose antlers. These doll variations were used mainly to carry heavy loads or pull hovering palanquins, the latest fad in high society since the advent of the self-propelled and self-guided shuttles.

With the stunning gleaming beauty of Asgard, the diversity to be seen among the races, and the dazzling spectacle of technology. No one, at least, not many could see the rot darkening the underbelly of the golden city. No one questioned the fact that King Jarajokull Nal son of Byleistr had long ago usurped the monarchy of Asgard and the descendants of the Alfodr's bloodline.

Many nobles boasted of having Odin's blood in their veins. Even Jarajokull himself claimed that his mother, Nal V was a descendant of Odin and the Jotun Queen Nal I. Gods know Odin bedded enough women of all races that the boast could most certainly be true. However, no one had enough blood right to claim Odin's throne, even the sons of Nal, and yet here King Jarajokull reigned, and if ever an heir did surface with a rightful claim to Odin's throne, well then, King Jarajokull Nal simply had that heir eliminated.

Everyone knew of it. And so, no one dared make a claim for the throne leaving the corruption to grow unnoticed behind

Valaskjalf's golden walls as King Jarajokull Nal, false claimant to the title 'Son of Odin' sits upon Hildskjalf with a thousand elite guards standing between him and any common person walking outside of Valaskjalf. And yet, if any wayward pedestrian or lord looked within the halls of Valaskjalf they would have seen--nothing. For King Jarajokull sat upon Hildskjalf enshrouded by a veil of darkness that neither sound, nor light, nor sight could pierce. Inside that globe of impenetrable night, Jarajokull was linked by magic and technology to a dark conference room hundreds of miles away in a city called Eden.

Inside that dark room deep within the bowels of the tallest tower at the very center of Eden, Jarajokull slammed his gavel down three times as he. called the meeting to order.

"Order! Order!" Jarajokull proclaimed, "I call to order this session of the Council of the Patriarchs."

Silence fell over a room surrounded by tables representing the first four Prime races, Humans, Alfar, Dvergr, and Iaeten. With much lobbying from the Dvergr and the Iaeten, a new table was added for the Nyr only a thousand years ago. Dragons themselves demanded their seat at the Council only a hundred years after the Exodus when they realized that the Primes were not going to give them a seat out of merit. So, surrounding the central dias where Jarajokull presided this Hundred Year over the Council of Patriarchs, were six curved tables shaped like a wheel for each of the six Prime races.

Behind those six tables, arrayed like spokes were additional tables and chairs for every subrace of the six primary races: For the Humans there were tables for the Aesir, the Vanir, and the Barbarians.

For the Alfar there were tables for the Dokkalfar, Ljosalfar, Nottalfar, Svartalfar, and the Villralfar.

For the Dvergr were the tables for Fjalldvergr and the Jarndvergr.

For the Dragons were tables for the Flights of Green, Brown, Gold, Bronze, Silver, Blue, and Black. The only Flights not represented were the Reds and the Whites that decided to go to the Orange and Blue Realms, Muspelheim and Niflheim.

For the Ieaton, who sat at tables as high as most Aesir were tall, sat delegates for the Hleriaeten also called Hleritunn, Kariaeten also called Karitunn, and the Fjalliaeten also known as Fjalltunn. The only Iaeten not represented were the Joiaeten also called Jotunn, and the Logiaeten also known as Logitunn, who reside in Muspelheim and Niflheim.

Lastly, for the Nyr there was only one table and those three Elders represented the whole of their relatively new race of people.

"I will now ask if there is any old business that must be addressed before we continue on the new business?" Jarajokull intoned formally.

A purple halo lit up a table wishing the Alfari section. A holographic screen informed King Jarajokull of who was asking for permission to speak.

"The Chairman recognizes Queen-Matron Avarice Lucustihl Nigrumarce," King Jarajokull said.

"We have an issue," Queen-Matron Avarice said as she tapped a few keys before several large holographic projections filled the air around the room above them, "The army I was directed to send to the Valelands in Annwyn was destroyed before it could deal with the Renegade."

As she spoke the holograms played the video that was obvious from its angle high above the earth. As the video zoomed in the Battle of Black Sky it was obvious that the battle was already in full swing.

"How many soldiers did you send?" Someone in the audience asked.

"Five thousand warriors," Avarice replied, "Supported by a thousand priestesses."

As the video played and the svartalf losses mounted more and more murmuring could be heard until Jarajokull called for silence.

"How many are in this enemy force?" He asked once silence had fallen over the room again.

"Thirty-two," Avarice answered in a pained voice.

"Only thirty-two," Another voice gasped.

"Obviously," Another voice interjected from the darkness of the room, "Three of these individuals are blessed by some god or goddess. Look, it is apparent that two females are much more powerful than the others. Who are they?"

"That information is still being ascertained," Avarice replied, "The perspective of the surveillance satellite is wrong for easy identification."

"Can we, at least, tell what races they are?" Someone with a soft childlike voice asked.

"No, not very well," Avarice answered grimly, "However, we do know that many of them are animals, and at least two are Primes.