Chapter 33: The Frontier Village of Kirka
Year 0003, Month XI-XII: The Imperium
---
Day 90.1: Village Fortification and Evacuation
Within a couple of weeks, the Frontier Village of Kirka had begun to rekindle with life as soldiers of the Kingdom of Ogind arrived by the hundreds. What had once been a quiet settlement on the empire's edge now buzzed with military activity, the sound of marching boots and clanking armor echoing through streets that had known only the peaceful rhythm of rural life. The initial wave was merely the beginning—reports suggested thousands more would follow in the coming months, transforming this remote outpost into a critical military staging ground.
Rommel had received prior notification of their arrival through his network of informants, a blessing that allowed him to prepare for the inevitable complications. This advance warning meant that his illegal operations within the village had to be immediately suspended or risk complete exposure. The stakes were too high to continue business as usual. He understood the delicate balance required to maintain his cover—appearing cooperative to the incoming commander while protecting the Corvus Syndicate's interests would demand all of his considerable cunning.
The transformation of Kirka from a smuggling hub to a military fortress required swift action. Rommel's first priority was orchestrating the evacuation of civilians, particularly those untrained in combat who would become liabilities in the event of an attack. These evacuations served a dual purpose: they cleared potential witnesses to his operations while demonstrating his apparent concern for innocent lives. Each departing family represented both a security risk eliminated and a small victory in maintaining his facade of legitimacy.
More pressing was his obligation to report these developments to his superiors within the Corvus Syndicate. The message he crafted was carefully worded, explaining the necessity of suspending operations and the temporary loss of valuable clients. The criminal organization had invested significant resources in establishing Kirka as a waystation for their illicit trade routes. Now, with royal troops swarming the village, their entire regional network faced potential exposure. Rommel knew that discovery would mean more than mere imprisonment—the crimes they had committed, from smuggling contraband weapons to trafficking forbidden artifacts, and selling human beings, carried sentences of death by execution.
The decision to halt operations was not made lightly. The Corvus Syndicate had spent years cultivating relationships with corrupt officials, establishing safe houses, and creating seemingly legitimate business fronts. The Zargos Mercantile, their primary cover organization, had built a reputation for reliable trade in exotic goods. Now all of that careful construction faced potential collapse if even one thread of their web was pulled too aggressively by military investigators.
Chief Rufus had long harbored growing suspicions about Rommel's true activities. His instincts, honed by years of military service, had detected the subtle signs of corruption that others might miss. The people who surrounded Rommel were not the honest merchants they claimed to be—their eyes held the cold calculation of those who profited from others' misery, their conversations carried undertones of barely concealed violence. Yet Rufus found himself in an impossible position, excluded from important meetings and bound by his orders to protect the very man he suspected of betraying everything he held sacred.
His loyalty had never been to Rommel personally, but to the late Baron Kirka, who had entrusted him with safeguarding the village's temporary administrator. This distinction had become increasingly important as Rufus witnessed the steady corruption of village affairs. The baron had been a man of honor, someone who genuinely cared for his people's welfare. Rommel, by contrast, seemed to view the villagers as nothing more than resources to be exploited or obstacles to be managed.
Rufus's suspicions had crystallized several months earlier when a man named Sandeval and other armed escort groups from the Zargos Mercantile arrived in the village. The heated argument between Sandeval and Rommel had been conducted behind closed doors, but the tension that followed their meeting had been palpable throughout the village. Rufus had not been able to overhear their discussion, but his gut instinct told him that these men represented something far more dangerous than the reputable merchant organization they claimed to serve. Even the Zargos Mercantile, their supposed legitimate front, had always struck him as dubious at best.
The arrival of royal troops had initially seemed like divine intervention, but Rufus knew better than to act hastily. Any investigation into the current corruption would need to be handled delicately to avoid alerting Rommel to the growing suspicion. It was not until a few days ago that a messenger from the capital provided the confirmation he had been seeking.
The messenger had approached him directly, bypassing Rommel entirely—a breach of protocol that immediately signaled the message's importance. The man had been careful to ensure privacy before delivering his encrypted communication, a technique familiar to those trained in covert operations. The message itself was brief but loaded with meaning:
"Beware of Rommel. He is part of the Corvus Syndicate. Prepare—we will retake the village once the fighting has stopped. -C.O."
The encryption method was one known only to their former unit, but Rufus immediately recognized the sender. Griffith, his former commanding officer and mentor, had been the commander of Baron Kirka's personal guard before the baron's untimely departure leaving the village in Rommel's hands. The man who had taught him everything about leadership, loyalty, and the subtle art of reading an enemy's intentions was still watching over the village's interests from afar.
With this confirmation, Rufus's conviction crystallized like steel being tempered in flame. His allegiance had always been to Baron Kirka and the people under his protection. The current situation was merely a test of that loyalty, a challenge that would determine whether he was worthy of the trust that had been placed in him. For now, he would bide his time, gathering information and preparing for the moment when justice could finally be served.
Meanwhile, the arriving soldiers had wasted no time in strengthening the village's defenses. The existing fortifications, adequate for defending against bandits or wild beasts, required significant upgrades to withstand a military assault. Work proceeded around the clock as engineers supervised the construction of additional watchtowers, the reinforcement of walls, and the creation of defensive positions that could channel attacking forces into predetermined kill zones.
New camps sprouted like mushrooms after rain, housing the growing military presence in this remote corner of the kingdom. The transformation was remarkable—what had been peaceful farmland now bristled with military tents, weapon stockpiles, and training grounds where soldiers drilled in formation. The village had become the foundation for a military installation that would serve as the kingdom's first line of defense against invasion.
The fortifications were progressing admirably, but recent news had cast a shadow over their preparations. Reports had arrived detailing a skirmish near the border—still thousands of kilometers away, but close enough to make the threat tangible. The reality of war had moved from abstract possibility to immediate concern. Everyone understood their position: as the kingdom's southernmost settlement of significant size, Kirka would likely bear the brunt of any invasion attempt.
The civilian evacuation had proceeded smoothly, with most families accepting transportation to safer regions further inland. Only essential personnel remained: the guardsmen who had sworn to defend their home, Chief Rufus as their commanding officer, and unfortunately, Rommel and his associates. The criminals had been forced to remain by military necessity, but Rufus suspected that Rommel was already planning his escape route, ready to disappear the moment the opportunity presented itself.
The question that haunted Rufus was whether he would allow Rommel to flee without facing justice for his crimes. The answer would determine not only the fate of one corrupt official but the moral foundation upon which the village's future would be built.
---
Day 90.2: The Veteran Commander Responsible for the Forward Camp
In the newly established military headquarters stood a figure whose very presence commanded respect and attention. Commander Cocoy Bartolomew possessed the regal bearing and iron discipline that marked him as a professional soldier of the highest caliber. As the appointed commander of this critical front, he represented the Southern Region Defense Force of the Kingdom of Ogind and was based near the Principality with distinction and authority that few could match.
Bartolomew was an aged veteran whose experience had been forged in the crucible of actual warfare. His reputation for tactical brilliance, particularly in defensive strategies, had been earned through blood and sacrifice in conflicts that most of his subordinates had only heard about in stories. His most notable victories had come during the kingdom's clashes with Arwen, where his innovative defensive tactics had saved countless lives while protecting the borders of the Kingdom of Ogind and its Principality before the current truce had been negotiated.
The military had bestowed upon him the honorary title of "Southern Vanguard of the Kingdom of Ogind," a recognition of his pivotal role in maintaining the realm's security. Now, as old tensions resurged and the specter of war loomed once again, he had been called upon to face their ancient rivals one more time. The irony was not lost on him—after years of peace, he found himself preparing to fight the same enemy that had defined much of his career.
Bartolomew was renowned throughout the military hierarchy as a no-nonsense commander who valued efficiency and honesty above all else. His straightforward approach to leadership had earned him both respect and fear among his subordinates. More importantly, the king had granted him special authority to deliver punishment in active combat zones—a power that reflected both his trusted status and the severity of their current situation.
The designation of Kirka as part of an active combat zone carried significant implications, even though enemy forces remained thousands of kilometers distant. This classification meant that military law superseded civilian authority, giving Bartolomew unprecedented power to maintain order and discipline among both soldiers and civilians.
"Captain Rufus," Bartolomew's voice carried the authority of decades spent commanding troops in desperate situations, "how are your guardsmen holding up under these circumstances?"
Rufus had been included in these strategic discussions due to his role as the primary local military commander. His knowledge of the terrain, local conditions, and potential threats made his input invaluable for planning their defense. "Sir, all 350 of my soldiers are prepared for conflict, even before this war begins to escalate," he reported with pride. "We've maintained combat readiness as our standard operating procedure."
The frontier village's military complement was indeed impressive for a settlement of its size. With a total population of approximately 2,000 souls, having 350 dedicated soldiers represented a significant military presence. This allocation reflected both the village's strategic importance and its proximity to potential threats—not only from their southern rivals but also from the dangerous creatures that inhabited the nearby Great Forests.
"Excellent," Bartolomew nodded approvingly. "However, I'm ordering you to double your vigilance measures immediately. While I hope my concerns prove unfounded, we can never afford to become complacent regarding security, regardless of our distance from the primary theaters of operation."
The commander's expression grew more serious as he continued, "I'm particularly troubled by the loss of our scouting parties several days ago. This suggests that Arwen spies may have already successfully penetrated our borders, possibly in greater numbers than we initially suspected. I can only hope our counter-intelligence operatives are proving equally effective in their current missions."
This warning was directed not only at Rufus but at all the captains present in the makeshift assembly hall. The implications were clear: the war had already begun in the shadows, fought by spies and saboteurs whose actions could prove as devastating as any conventional battle.
"Understood, sir," Rufus responded with a crisp salute, his acknowledgment carrying the weight of absolute commitment.
The broader defensive strategy extended far beyond Kirka itself. Multiple forward installations were currently under construction throughout the region, each carefully positioned to provide early warning of enemy movement while remaining hidden from detection. These outposts represented a calculated risk—they were deliberately placed close enough to potential invasion routes to provide valuable intelligence, but far enough from the Great Forest borders to avoid violating the ancient treaties that kept the empire neutral in human conflicts.
The Great Forest presented its own unique dangers that complicated their defensive planning. Not only would any encroachment into its territory make them enemies of the powerful Empire that claimed dominion over the woodland realm, but the savage beasts that ruled those shadowy depths would actively hunt any human foolish enough to enter their domain. The creatures of the deep forest were legendary for their ferocity and their ability to coordinate attacks against intruders.
Therefore, all defensive installations were restricted to territories that the Kingdom of Ogind directly owned and controlled. This limitation forced military planners to work within constrained parameters, but it also ensured that their defensive network remained legally and politically sustainable. These forward posts would serve as the kingdom's eyes and ears, providing advance warning of any invasion attempt.
The reality of assignment to these remote installations was stark and unforgiving. Soldiers posted to forward observation points faced almost certain death in the event of a major invasion. They would be the first to encounter enemy forces, the first to send warning signals, and most likely the first to die in defense of their homeland. Such assignments typically served as either punishment for serious infractions or destinations for volunteers whose courage bordered on madness.
Yet despite these grim prospects, there had been no shortage of volunteers. Whether driven by patriotism, desperation, or simple fatalism, soldiers continued to step forward for these suicide missions. Their sacrifice embodied the spirit of duty that would be essential for the kingdom's survival in the coming conflict.
The war had indeed already begun, though its opening moves had been subtle rather than dramatic. The very air around Kirka seemed to thicken with the promise of violence, as if death itself was drawing closer with each passing day. Reports from other forward bases of operations spoke of increasing casualties on both sides—not from major battles, but from the countless small skirmishes, assassination attempts, and sabotage operations that preceded formal declarations of war.
In this atmosphere of growing tension and inevitable conflict, every decision carried weight that extended far beyond its immediate consequences. The fate of the Frontier Village of Kirka, and perhaps the kingdom itself, would be determined by the courage, wisdom, and sacrifice of those who stood ready to defend their homeland against the approaching storm.