Rodin.
5th of Octondra, 1491.
***
Things were proceeding, dare I say, divinely. Meaning at a furious pace that was difficult to keep up with. Just a year ago, we were suffering at the hands of bandits. Just over eight months ago, we met the half-drow heir to the House of Cole. Now, here I was, sitting in an office more luxurious than Silas had back then, looking over files- dossiers of beings a realm away with Letta, Giorno, and their apprentices.
"This is the first time I'm seeing such a species. And there are so many of them." Giorno's most recent apprentice, Anta, gasped. "Half-orcs, vampires. Fire… people?" She was quite the outspoken one, all things considered.
"And they're being trained as we speak." I sighed, shaking my head. "We should be there."
"I'm sure the academy would love to have you on their grounds, Rodin." Gio laughed. "But there's no need." He quickly reassured. "Not when all that knowledge is being sent to us in real time."
He was right, but that made my opinions no different. That said, we had a job to do. And so we compiled all we knew with the requirements and suggestions brought in from Amun, spoken uncannily through our clones.
"How does Epethia do it?" My Doppelganger asked, but in his voice.
"Essentially, Epethia is all about aesthetics. Everyone wears the same uniform, regardless of class. The only exceptions are the magistrate- the equivalent of generals- and the archmages. Everyone from clerics to fighters, witches, and wizards has a single uniform. Everyone hated it, and I strongly suggest we avoid it."
Thankfully, Amun had no intention of such. In fact, it was the opposite. "Each Legion should have a culture and personality of its own, formed by the commander of the Legion in question. Thus, the guild, as a whole, needs a standard uniform for formal wear, distinguished by dyes and hues.
"Beyond that, the field wear for class should have a template or base design for new legionaries. As they gather experience and rank up, their gear would be upgraded with them, tailored using the materials they gather during their travels. But the overall design will remain the same.
"Moreover, these templates should either have variations for different environments or, preferably, be enchanted to make them wearable in any environment. And, since the latter isn't an option just yet, there's a lot of work ahead of us."
We toiled for two months, switching off with our clones to see what they drew up for the insignia, color schemes, and templates while they went and tested the prototypes in the throes of combat against undead drones.
Little by little, we checked more and more equipment off the list. The standard boots, greaves, gauntlets, and gloves, as well as the formal footwear and gloves. Trousers and blouses. Even some headpieces and eyewear. But there were some things that I was unsure enchantments would even make real.
In working with Edma and the military industry, we designed strange green chips inlaid with metals and implanted them into machines that would make increasingly smaller chips until they were small enough to be implanted under the skin around our throats and ears.
We made large, interchangeable filters and valves small enough to fit inside the mouthpieces of canteens and water-skins. Letta toiled and toiled away, trying to cram as many functions into a wristwatch as possible.
It was arduous work, the 'Road to Miniaturization.' I'd leave every day weary and go right to sleep, then wake bright and early, ready to train the guard and run practice drills for the citizens before I returned to work. Day after day. For months on end. Exhaustingly.
But I wouldn't have had it any other way.
***
King Johann Silas.
6th of Nonda, 1491.
***
"Silas."
I reacted to Amun's voice the same way I had in the two months since these Doppelgangers first changed- with trepidation. It was always something. Some unbelievable piece of news; some unfathomable grand design; some daunting tasks.
This time was no different. Yet, it came with a warning. "Prepare yourself."
And so, because of the slothfulness born from my trepidation, I turned to see a billowing cloud of darkness announcing the arrival of several dwarves. Gray dwarves of the Darkworld, made entirely of darkness. Solid and yet… amorphous, with vibrant scars glowing the same blue-green as their eyes.
Umbral smoke poured off their bodies like steam from a hot roast, fading into the air and pooling onto the ground below them. Yet they stood like any other dwarf I'd ever seen. If only bald and more dour.
"In the search for mithral and adamantine, I sent my doppelganger to scour the depths beneath the Bodhi Tree while I study on the surface." Amun declared, as if it wasn't the most unthinkable thing in the realms. "They found and subsequently liberated a gray dwarven stronghold called the Shadeforge. The new citizens will remain in Nonus with us. Regardless, we've obtained a shadow undead labor force of gray dwarves and have since seized their quite sizable adamantine mine."
I nearly launched out of my chair. "T- that's incredible! T- this changes everything!"
"To top it off, their territory stretches to a nearby mithral deposit. And there are many more deposits of gems and common and rare metals as well. Based on their records, it has everything we need to last us until we return to Maru. But I strongly suspect we'll encounter more veins down the road, both here and there."
A bit of small talk ensured while we waited for the council to gather and hear his intentions for the little bastards. Though, much to his delight, it didn't take long for them to arrive. They appeared mostly in pairs, each taking a step back upon seeing the many undead gray dwarves cramming themselves into the shadows.
Once everyone was seated, he asked if anyone knew what was hidden within the core of the mountain. If anyone did, they didn't tell, so Amun recounted what transpired when they left Hill Base all those months ago.
"We ventured to the Epethian capital and saw nothing good, as I know you're all aware. So, we soon left and returned to a clearing not too far from here to climb the mountain. At the summit, we found what I discovered to be a massive tree trunk, hundreds of meters in radius. Curious, we made camp there for a few days, and in speaking with my ancestors, I learned it was the Marulean Tree of Life. Dead since the ancient times.
"Hmm. 'Maru is dead.' And here I thought that to be a metaphor." Yaramin huffed.
"As did I." Amun said. "The implications of its death are something I intend to learn, eventually. However, it does not change my plans for the mountain. And these undying dwarves of darkness are here to bring those plans to fruition.
"As for the tree itself, here is what I have in mind…"
—-
When the meeting was over, I took my clone for a walk and climbed the mountain. Not to the summit, but high enough to look upon all of Hill Base and the surrounding mountain and imagine what it would be like in 5, 10, 50, or a 100 years; just like Amun asked me back then, and answered with the core of the moon.
Back then, which seemed like so long ago, I had no answer. But now, I did. Now, I could see something. And it was something I could hardly believe. And yet something I believed would come true.
This would become the beating heart of Maru. A new epicenter of life and death on an unforseen scale.