CHAPTER 239: THE VULPINA WASTES

Montis stood at the head of his delegation as he listened to the rhythmic, raspy sound of his rebreather. The device he was wearing was designed to prevent him from inhaling ether-charged particles in the air. Apparently, the Empress had once run a test in a place far worse than this. Montis could not even begin to think of where she could have gone to have figured this out, but regardless, Montis is grateful for the sight.

He paused as he looked around at the barren wasteland before him. He glanced at the little device on his wrist, 17 Ether Units, or EU for short. It's not exactly healthy, but it's survivable at least. Parts of that gorge spiked to 250 EU. Montis didn't want to know why the meter had a maximum range of 500,000 EU, but he had read reports that parts of the Azure Sea had EU levels hitting 100,000.

EU levels become lethal at around 500 EU. At above 100 EU, you might get long-term sickness and mutations. Most of the world is sitting at a very comfortable 0.1 - 0.5 EU. The human body can tolerate up to 10 EU with no issues. Any further, you run the risk of getting sick or nauseated.

Montis glanced at the ground and then at the distant horizon. The maps indicated this place was a forest, but he saw no forest. Just sickly yellow sand with an almost ashen hue stretched as far as the eye could see.

The sun was merciless here; it beat down on the desolate sands like an angry god. Yet the sands remained strangely cool. In fact, Montis could feel it; it was cold even with the sun’s glare. Looking up, he saw no clouds in the sky, which would explain the desolation here. This probably rained once a season or even less.

Montis was confused, to say the least. He glanced back down at the map in his hand.

img src="https://i.imgur.com/xUwClas.jpeg" alt="xUwClas.jpeg"

From what he knows of this place, it was always isolated, much like the Elven Wood of the Ancients. The Ostayan Wall was a great mountain range that has always isolated that part of the world. Geographically, the westernmost side of hte world has always been challenging to access. The Ostayan Wall barred the southern path, and to the north was the Sea of Mists, which was more dangerous than the pass through the Ostayan Wall. As far as humans and even the Lizardkin were concerned, no information had flowed out of the West for millennia.

The humans knew that something had happened long ago that had shattered the entire western side of the continent. The explanation of what happened was honestly more myth than fact. They said the gods fought there, and their battle shattered the land as to which god and what kind of fight, the myths were not exactly that clear.

It was more of a… “one thing led to another… the end” kind of story. Knowing what he did and the state of the land, Montis knew it was most likely an event that happened so long ago that most of it was lost to time, with only the most basic information retained. As to his curiosity, it seems most likely the truth will be revealed here.

He felt the sands shift to his right, and Vasta emerged from the ground beside him. He turned to see her tower above him, staring at him with her beady eyes as her mandibles clicked.

“Grand General…” Vasta said with a slight bow.

“What is it?” Montis asked as he stared at her. Vasta would not emerge unless necessary, although he did hear that Vasta was one of the more chatty Broodmothers.

“My scouts have been lost, something has killed them. I can send more combat-capable units, but if we are to establish more… positive relations with the native life forms, I can conceive how sending greater combat power into the wastes would be a provocation.” Vasta said.

“Indeed, the Native Life… the Natives would view it as an incursion, keep the perimeter tight to our convoy, just enough for defence,” Montis said, and Vesta bowed again.

Montis let out a sigh that rattled his mask. This was a miserable land. It was a good thing the Empress was wise enough to invest in a secondary brood to prepare an underground supply line for essentials. At least Montis won’t have to worry about food, water, and other essentials.

“There is one more thing, Grand General,” Vesta said, and Montis glanced up at her.

“We have been detected. It is of no consequence, of course. The fact that you fly the banners so high indicates you have no intention of being subtle. However, a lone Vulpus has appeared in our slated path. It seems he knows the most likely route we will take, and he seems to be waiting for us,” Vasta said.

Montis paused at those words. This was good news. He expected to meet a fortified wall at the end of the mountain pass, not just a desolate wasteland.

“How far away?” Montis asked.

“Two hours to the south, in a shallow gorge that leads to a sheltered watering hole. A crucial supply line, the terrain offers respite from the Ether Radiation and leaves the water mostly untainted. I believe your kind calls it an Oasis.” Vesta said, and Montis grimaced.

An Oasis that can only be accessed through a shallow gorge is the perfect ambush location.

“I assume your scouts were lost there?” Montis asked, and Vesta just nodded in response.

“What is your decision, Grand General?” Vesta asked her gaze sharpening as if testing for weakness.

“We go to meet the Vulpus, our orders are to establish contact with the native Vulpus, this is as good a start as we have now.” Montis said, and Vesta nodded again.

“As you command, Grand General,” Vesta said. With nothing else to say, she turned around and burrowed back underground.

Montis sighed again and started dispatching orders. It wasn’t that good of a plan considering he was walking into an ambush but Vesta was trump card. The natives might be able to kill some weak scouts but to be honest half his soldiers can kill those same scouts. They were weak and fast by design, meant to be sacrificed for information.

A few hours later, he arrived at the gorge and headed in. The ride here was uneventful, but he did notice that the rocks here seemed to have been… pushed towards the mountain range. As if some kind of blast has torn over this land and deformed the terrain…

At the meeting spot, he saw a Vulpus standing alone, he was tall, lean, and still. His fur was ash-grey with pale streaks and black-tipped ears and tail. A long, worn coat hung from his frame, marked with faint sigils and reinforced with scrap metal at the shoulders and arms.

Brass cylinders were strapped across his chest, their purpose unclear. At his side hung a strange, metal tool, compact, humming faintly with energy. In his gloved hand, he held a long, angular device of wood and steel, shaped like a crossbow but without string or limbs, etched with the same symbols as his coat. It looked like some of the spell rifles the Empire uses, but of a clearly different design.

A broad, tattered hat cast his face in shadow. A metal mask covered his muzzle—smooth, featureless, and silent. Only his eyes showed, amber, sharp, and utterly still.

“Howdy, stranger,” the Vulpus said, his voice calm and gruff from behind his mask.

“Howdy?” Montis asked, a bit confused.

“We say that as a greeting, if you would be so obliged, mind telling me what you guys are doing here? We shot some of your beasts earlier. They were ugly things, weren’t they?” the Vulpus said, his gaze firm like iron.

“I apologise for the fright; I hope we can continue to speak cordially,” Montis said as his eyes glanced across different spots where amushers could lie in wait.

“My oh my, you know your way around fighting, don’t you?” the Vulpus said as he swung the rifle over his shoulders into a relaxed posture.

Montis watched as he raised his other arm and waved it in the air.

“Alright boys come on out, this showdown’s over.” then Vulpus said and as he expected almost two dozen Vulpus emerged from behind crevices and cover, all of them holding those long rifles.

The Vulpus reached up and unclasped his rebreather and let it fall to his chest. He smiled showing a row of pearly white fangs before tipping his hat.

Let's start over, shall we?

I am Captain O’Neer of the Vulpina Rangers

Pleased to make your acquaintance, mister

Welcome to the Vulpina Wastes…

Montis sat silently watched that Vulpus approach, he was an odd sight, clearly dressed for surviving these unforgiving wastes but also clearly not bothered by it at all.

“Smoke?” O’Neer asked as he took out this brown stick.

“Sorry?” Montis asked as he glanced at him in confusion.

“Guess that’s a no,” O’Neer said before putting the stick in his mouth and lighting the tip on fire with a strange device.

Montis looked on in fascination as O’Neer breathed out a cloud of acrid smoke. It stung the nose, but Montis could tell it was very relaxing for him.

“Ah, ok, so what's your game?” O’Neer said as he flicked some ash off the smoking stick.

“My Empress asked me to do two things. The first is to make contact with the locals, which I have…” Montis began but O’Neer just shook his head.

“Uh-uh,” the man cut in with a shake of his head. “You ain’t talkin’ to the locals. You’re talkin’ to the Rangers. We’re a ragtag bunch of lawmen and outcasts, misfits if you want to call it that. We look after the good folks out here at Vulpina Wastes. Keep 'em safe from despots, tyrants, and your run-of-the-mill loonies. Every so often, we gotta drop some wildlife too, like those strange pale freaks been tailin’ you.”

He took another slow drag from the glowing stick, smoke curling in the dry air.

“Yes, the Hive soldiers from the brood. They are with us on this expedition.” Montis clarified.

“Uh-huh, yeah, we figured as much.” O’Neer gave a slow nod. “Now, if you’re really keen on meeting locals, the nearest settlement’s Sanctuary Springs. But before we get to that, I gotta ask, what’s the second thing your Empress sent you out here to do?”

Montis hesitated, catching the way O’Neer’s eyes narrowed, just a sliver, but enough.

“See, out here, we ain’t too quick to trust strangers,” O’Neer said, his voice calm but edged. “We got tyrants, madmen, and all manner of nasty types crawling up from the cracks. So you’ll have to forgive us if we don’t just take your word and stroll on over to the nearest peaceful folk.”

He took another slow drag from the smoking stick, eyes never leaving Montis.

“The Empress seeks the Hellgate. We don’t know where that is.” Montis said, deciding its better to be honest. He had feeling lying to these Vulpus would not be a good idea.

O’Neer paused at his response, and Montis noted the other Vulpus seemed to grip their weapons a little tighter. When his response came, his voice was a tad softer and also more dangerous.

“You know, partner,” O’Neer began as he ground out the smoking stick on his boot and placed a hand on his sidearm, “I gotta say, this conversation’s givin’ me conniptions. So I suggest you explain. Quick.”

His eyes were cold as ice, and Montis knew the wrong answer would mean blood.

Montis glanced again at the other Vulpus. None had spoken, but their stances had shifted, looser, yet more ready. Hands near weapons, eyes sharp. They were waiting for his answer.

“We have need of it. There’s a war in Hell. The Empress has struck a bargain with some of the Demon Princes. If we don’t get in there and stop whatever’s happening, then… well, they might just spill out into this plane of existence.” Montis replied calmly, his eyes staring dead into O’Neer’s gaze.

“So what? You lot plan to waltz in there and fight off the forces of Hell itself?” O’Neer asked, raising a brow.

“No. She is. Vasta, show yourself,” Montis ordered.

The ground erupted beside him. From the torn earth rose Vasta, a Broodmother of the Great Beast’s Hive. Her beady eyes locked onto O’Neer like he was a slab of meat, and her mandibles clicked in mild irritation.

O’Neer, for his part, didn’t even flinch. He raised a hand to signal his men to lower their weapons, then stood and calmly stared up at her.

“You are not afraid,” Vasta said, her voice low as she loomed over him.

“Eh. Seen worse,” O’Neer replied with a shrug.

“You did well hunting my children,” Vasta stated. Montis sensed no displeasure in her tone.

“You don’t sound too offended for someone who had their kids shot,” O’Neer said.

“They were scouts. Disposable,” Vasta replied as she gazed down at him.

“So you are going to go into hell with your kids that my guys and gals just shot?” O’Neer challenged.

“Like I said, disposable,” Vasta said. In an instant, more of the hive creatures materialised around them. They rose from the sand, the rocks, the brush, silent and sudden. Within moments, the entire hidden oasis was crawling with them.

Montis saw every Ranger raise their weapons, sweeping the valley with tight grips and sharp eyes. But from a tactical perspective, it was pointless. They were overwhelmed.

O’Neer just looked around and let out a low whistle before laughing.

“Well, would you look at that, boys and gals? We’ve been made! Hahahaha!”

To Montis’s surprise, his soldiers laughed too.

“That’s a good one. You know, if you do decide to kill us, I hope you won’t mind if we put up a bit of resistance. Futile, I know, but it’s the principle of the thing,” O’Neer said, a wide grin spreading across his vulpine face.

“Vasta, enough,” Montis said as he glanced to the side.

Vasta backed off slightly, and the rest of the hive soldiers faded back into invisibility.

“As you wish, Grand General,” Vasta said, taking a step back.

“Damn! Now I really gotta meet that Empress of yours… Grand General…” O’Neer said with a laugh.

“So tell me, General Montis, how does a man like you hold a leash for something like that?” O’Neer asked as he glanced at Vasta.

“I don’t, Vasta is placed under my command by the orders of the Great Beast. I suggest we cooperate a conflict is in neither of our best interests, we have no interest in conquest we only want access to the Hellgate.” Montis replied evenly not even getting up from his seat.

O’Neer paused for a moment before slowly turning to face him.

“Who the hell is the Great Beast?” he asked.

Montis just sighed and took a slow drink from his waterskin.

“An ancient…” he began.

He tamed the Vampires.

Struck a deal with the Naga…

Then with the Daemon Princes…

Whatever you think he is, he is far worse…