Since ancient times, the bureaucrats of the Babylonian Court have held the mountains of the empire's southwest in the lowest regard. It was the ultimate destination for exile—the place where officials who lost in the shifting tides of politics were cast out to serve in remote, decaying prefectures.
The Imperial Palace cared far less for the southwest than for the Alluvium. Beyond a few walled cities and county seats established in narrow mountain basins, the endless reaches of the peaks were the domain of the beast-eared abhumans, whom the city-dwellers contemptuously dismissed as "beastmen."
The High Prefects had little interest in direct governance over these people. Rather than expending blood and treasure to send Iron Legions deep into that impossibly complex terrain, they preferred to recognize the authority of tribal chieftains, appointing them as local headmen to rule the abhumans on the Emperor's behalf. Thus, the southwest was a land where the Court's reach was long but its influence was thin.
But now, an army had arrived. After a series of fighting retreats, Gilgamesh and his Auric Reclamation reached this mystical land. Here, they sought to recuperate and bide their time until the world underwent its final transformation.
"So, Enkidu-Sa, these are the mountains you described as being infested with the Demi-humans?"
Mounted on his tall, iron-clad steed, Gilgamesh looked up at the endless, jagged peaks. For a man who had spent his life on the boundless plains of the Alluvium, this vista was profoundly alien.
"Indeed," Enkidu-Sa replied, nodding from his own saddle. "When my mentor served in the Court, he was once ordered to lead troops against the defiant tribes. He saw these mountains with his own eyes, which allowed him to describe them to us during his lectures."
"The journey here was grueling, though," Siduri added, her horse stepping carefully over a loose scree of rock. "Those treacherous narrow roads are enough to make anyone tremble. Even on the battlefield, I've rarely felt such fear."
She was not exaggerating. The paths were so perilous that soldiers stepped into the bottomless abyss nearly every day. However, this treacherous terrain served a purpose—the Imperial Army seemingly assumed Gilgamesh was on a suicide mission. As they delved deeper, the pursuers became fewer and their efforts more half-hearted.
"Still, the plan was brilliant," Ur-Namu noted, glancing back at the disciplined ranks of the Immortal Battalion. "At least we don't have to worry about the High Prefect's dogs hunting us down at every turn. We can focus our energy on the march; watching your footing on a cliff is much easier than watching your back for an ambush."
"But the real question is," Siduri interjected with concern, "how do we establish a foothold here? Surely we can't just pitch tents on a random mountainside and call it a home?"
The others turned to Gilgamesh, waiting for the King's verdict.
"A valid point," Gilgamesh said, his expression grave. "My thought is to seize a few county seats that the Court usually ignores. Even if they find out, they'll be too far away to do anything about it. But before that, we need to find the demi-humans. They are the locals; they surely know how to survive and hold ground outside the city walls. Enkidu-Sa, do you know how to find them?"
Enkidu-Sa looked troubled, rubbing his chin. "I did hear my mentor speak of it, but it has been a long time. Allow me a moment to remember..."
As Enkidu-Sa struggled to recall his lessons, a hail of arrows suddenly hissed from the depths of the surrounding forest!
"Ambush! Prepare for battle!"
As the officers screamed orders, the veterans instinctively formed defensive ranks. Despite the absence of Imperial pursuers, years of combat and muscle memory took over, and they snapped into a battle-ready state instantly.
"Show yourselves! Cowards who hide in the shadows and fire cold arrows are no warriors!" Siduri, never one to suffer an insult quietly, spurred her horse forward and shouted into the trees. "If you want us gone, come out of that forest and face us!"
"Hmph! Damned Alluvium-dwellers!"
A voice rang out from the woods, sharp and filled with venom. "Do you think we don't know why you've come into our mountains fully armed? The last time your kind came, you burned over a dozen of our villages to the ground! You dragged away our daughters just to serve as slaves for your High Lords!"
As the voice faded, groups of locals emerged from the forest. They were dressed in furs and leathers, armed with blades, spears, and bows. What struck the rebels most was the difference in their appearance: atop their heads grew pairs of animal ears—some like dogs, some like cats, and others like foxes.
These were the Southwestern beastmen—the abhuman tribes oppressed by the Empire.
"Have you people not tormented us enough?" the lead warrior demanded, pointing a notched blade at Gilgamesh with fury. Behind her, the eyes of the tribespeople burned with a deep, searing hatred.
To them, Gilgamesh's golden armor was indistinguishable from the Imperial livery they had faced before. They were all invaders, come to ravage their homeland. And they were prepared to drive them out by any means necessary.