Primordial Slime: I Devour The World

For two days the road led back to Varkesh, the distant sound of thunder occasionally echoing across the landscape. The army that had marched out of Varkesh sure that they would return with another kingdom did not seem like an army. There were fewer soldiers. Far fewer. The survivors of the battle dragged themselves along the road in small groups, supporting the wounded and carrying the dead. Some wrapped the corpses in scraps of fabric while others left the bodies exposed to the elements since they didn’t have the time or resources to properly bury them. No one celebrated a victory or mourned any losses. There was no need to speak of either.

Commander Tharven marched at the front of the army, battered armor replaced with something simpler. A large axe rested against his shoulder and a broken horn rested atop his head as a constant reminder of the battle. He had said little since leaving Eldoris and the warriors around him said even less. They had left for war at the side of Rhazek, confident that no matter how impossible the odds their king would lead them to victory. That he was gone, dead, they knew that the march back to Varkesh would be long and desolate. The thought of their king, of Rhazek, haunted every step they took.

It was not until the second night that Varkesh appeared on the horizon. The city had been built within a mountainous region surrounded by jagged peaks and vast tracts of scorched land. Towering walls of stone surrounded the capital and watch towers jutted out from either side to keep an eye on the road. The gates opened as the advance party of soldiers arrived. At first the guards only stared. Then one of them frowned. ”Why are there so few?” No one responded. More warriors passed through the gates, then the wounded, then the dead. The sight of the dead caused the look on the guards’ faces to change. A lone warrior walking past the gates carrying a fallen comrade’s body was met with a gasp from a nearby woman. The soldier dropped to his knees as the woman screamed, alerting the people of Varkesh to what was happening.

”What happened?” ”Where is the king?” ”Where is Rhazek?” ”Did we win?” The questions echoed throughout the city as more and more of Varkesh’s people arrived. The soldiers simply walked past them and Tharven walked among them. The people of Varkesh swarmed around the commander almost immediately.

”Commander!” ”What happened?” ”Why are so many dead?” ”Where is Rhazek?” Tharven raised a hand. ”Move aside!” His voice was firm but those closest to him could hear the exhaustion in it. The army continued their slow trek towards the center of the city.

Varkesh had always been built around one simple rule: Strength dictated everything. The strongest monster stood above the rest and the weak followed those stronger than them. Rhazek had been the perfect example of this, rising to the throne by conquering Varkesh’s previous king and expanding the city’s territory to include the lands of lesser monsters. So long as Rhazek stood above the rest there had been no issue regarding who ruled Varkesh. Now there was.

The army arrived at the great fortress at the heart of the city. The wounded were taken inside while the dead were gathered and placed in the Hall of Warriors. Families soon joined the growing throng around the soldiers. Wailing could be heard throughout the city as some of Varkesh’s people embraced the bodies of their loved ones while others simply stared in horror. A few demanded answers. An hour later after a brief rest and recuperation, Tharven stood before the assembled mob of warriors, commanders and families. Behind him stood the surviving officers who had fought at Eldoris. He knew there was no easy way to say this.

”The battle is over.” At first there was only silence as the crowd processed the commander’s words. Tharven glanced over the faces before him. ”Varkesh lost.” A murmur of denial swept through the hall. ”No!” ”We couldn’t have lost!” ”Rhazek was there!” Tharven’s grip tightened on his axe. ”Rhazek is dead.” The words seemed to hang in the air for a moment before the reality of them set in. One of the older warriors stepped forward. ”Our king?” Tharven nodded. ”Rhazek fell in battle against Tanaka Eldoris.” The hall exploded with voices.

”How?” ”How could Rhazek lose?” ”Who failed him?” ”How did the army survive?” ”Why did you surrender?” Tharven raised his voice above the din. ”The battle was already decided.” That only seemed to infuriate the warriors and commanders present. ”Varkesh does not surrender!” ”You knelt before the enemy!” ”You brought shame upon this kingdom!” A warrior struck his fist against the stone floor of the hall. Another demanded the army should return to Eldoris while yet another called for Tanaka to be executed. Within minutes the argument had spilled out into the streets.

Tharven stepped out of the fortress just in time to see what chaos had erupted among the people of Varkesh. Warriors and civilians shouted at each other while families demanded the bodies of their dead. Some soldiers wanted revenge, others wanted a new king. A number of people were already accusing the surviving commanders and officers of treason.

”Stop!” Tharven’s voice rang out across the square, silencing several of the arguing warriors. A handful turned toward him, most did not. A group of warriors had surrounded a number of soldiers who had fought alongside Tharven at Eldoris. ”You surrendered to him!” One of the warriors pointed an accusing finger at the surrounded soldiers. ”You betrayed Rhazek!”

A soldier unsheathed his weapon, only for Tharven to step between the opposing sides. ”Lower it!” ”Commander, they abandoned our king.” ”They stopped fighting after he died.” ”They should have fought until they died!” Tharven’s gaze darkened. ”And accomplished what?” The warrior went silent. ”Another thousand corpses?” Tharven turned to regard the warriors around him who had fought at Eldoris. ”We lost enough people already.”

That should have been enough to sway them, but instead another messenger arrived running through the crowd. ”Commander!” Tharven turned toward the newcomer. The warrior was panting heavily as he reached the commander. ”The eastern armory has been seized!” Tharven’s expression darkened. ”Who took it?” ”Three hundred warriors.” The messenger hesitated. ”They’ve armed themselves and declared that they will march on Eldoris.” A wave of murmurs and shouts of agreement rose from the gathered people. ”They’re right!” ”Rhazek must be avenged!” ”Kill Tanaka!” ”We cannot allow this humiliation!”

Tharven ignored the noise. ”Who is leading them?” The messenger hesitated. ”Commander Varok.” Tharven narrowed his eyes. Varok. He knew that name. Varok had fought at Eldoris, a veteran commander of Varkesh. He was not a madman seeking vengeance. He truly believed that Tharven had betrayed them and that Varkesh’s honor had been stained by their refusal to continue fighting. How could they blame him?

”How long ago?” ”Less than an hour.” Tharven turned his gaze toward the eastern district, already calculating his options. Another messenger ran up to him. ”Commander!” Tharven turned. ”What is it now?” The messenger paled as he spoke. ”The royal granaries have been breached.” Tharven’s stomach twisted. ”By whom?” ”Civilians. Hundreds of them.” The messenger swallowed hard. ”Food distribution stopped after the army returned. They broke the gates and begun stealing whatever they could carry.”

Tharven turned toward the east, toward the armories and the granaries. The eastern armories contained the emergency stockpile of weapons and equipment for the warriors of Varkesh. Weapons that could be distributed to four thousand warriors and enough armor to equip half that number. The granaries contained enough food to feed a large portion of Varkesh’s population. He glanced around at the warriors around him. Few of them could still fight, far too many were wounded or exhausted. Varkesh’s people were already beginning to turn on each other.

”How many soldiers do we have that can still fight?” ”Perhaps four hundred.” Tharven closed his eyes for a moment. Four hundred warriors. The armories held three-hundred armed warriors. The granaries were being looted by desperate civilians. If he sent the majority of his remaining soldiers to the armories it would leave the rioters at the granaries free to sack the city. If he tried to protect the civilians more soldiers would be needed, leaving Varkesh vulnerable to Varok’s forces when they arrived to claim the emergency stockpile. He opened his eyes.

”What are Varok’s orders?” ”He intends to march at dawn.” Tharven stared into the distance. If Varok and his three-hundred warriors managed to seize the emergency armory and escape the city then the remaining forces of Varkesh would be fractured. One portion loyal to Tharven and the protection of Tanaka Eldoris and the remainder seeking vengeance against their former king. A civil war would break out before the bodies of the fallen at Eldoris could be properly buried.

Another shout from the street drew Tharven’s attention. A fight had broken out near the gates of the fortress. The people of Varkesh surged forward, pushing and shoving in a mass of fury and grief. Tharven’s soldiers quickly dispersed the unruly mob. ”Keep them back!” ”Protect the families!” ”Don’t draw your weapons unless they draw theirs!”

Tharven watched the chaos unfold with a grim expression. Varkesh had prepared for this day, for this war against Eldoris. They had trained their warriors, built their armories, raised their armies and stored their supplies. No one had planned for the day their king fell. No one had prepared for the people to turn on each other in grief and rage. Tharven turned his gaze toward the eastern district and then toward the granaries. His jaw tightened. He did not have enough soldiers to save both.

”Commander?” One of his officers stood by his side, waiting for orders. Tharven gripped his axe. ”The armory must be secured before dawn.” The officer nodded. ”And the granaries?” Tharven turned his gaze toward the angry and grieving crowd. ”We protect the civilians we can reach.” The officer hesitated. ”And if Varok refuses to surrender?” Tharven’s expression darkened.

”Then I will deal with him myself.” He turned away from the square and toward the eastern district. Behind him, Varkesh’s people continued their angry and bitter debate. The war against Eldoris was over, but Varkesh was about to enter a new conflict, one against itself.