Interlude - A Fragile Balance (Prince Bjorhold)
Prince Bjorhold the Frail hated his body.
Not in a manner tied to his appearance, or even in regard to his wizened face- no, the Prince held hatred before the unfairness of fate before his decaying self. His crowning happened a few years ago, yet his hopeful reign was soon to meet a dreadful short end.
All because of a curse he thought his family had long seen forgotten. Yet, that proved to not be the case as he too was struck by it.
Gnomish Fever was what killed the first Prince of this beloved realm, the one thing that had plagued the entire principality with strife and chaos as nobles rushed to gain greater control of the administration.
For Bjorhold to be given this news through his court physician… Yes, times were indeed going to be as uncertain as one would expect.
The Principality had long embraced slow economic growth through cuts into the military- the fear of the nobility gaining the means to control the army and cause a major upheaval was enough of a worry to keep that under check.
The only threat was, at this point, the Voghgran Empire’s behavior on the topic. While relations have been tame between the former Margraviate and its original overlord, it would be mistaken thought for him to imagine they would keep their nose out of this business.
Outside stood incredible issues, and within stood rotting factors that further weakened the stability of the Principality. The council was constantly bickering with some hot headed individuals daring to grow bolder in this moment of weakness, but, luckily enough, they were easily repelled by their own ‘colleagues’.
The many houses that represented the lessened nobility had grown stronger due to the stagnation the principality had suffered in the last two decades, and their dangerous plans may as well undermine everything their beloved ancestors did to create this idea of a small world for them to call home.
A nest of vipers, and not one that was willing to concede to the natural order of succession. Their reasoning? A woman can’t rule the Principality. A foolish notion no one seriously thought as a righteous motivation to deny his daughter, but it didn’t matter.
Ferinalm was a strong dwarf, and, despite her limitations, eager to prove her worth both as a ruler and a warrior. It was no secret the heiress was even more active than the prince could proudly admit, but that was no issue to Bjorhold. It was only fair that his daughter took the wellbeing of the realm to heart.
She was nurtured under the legends of their predecessors, and it was no secret that she always strived to be what many children her age wanted to be: Rolhunhorn the Merciful, the First Prince, and a grand hero against the last Dark Lord.
A fierce warrior, but a prudent ruler that was able to easily keep Voghgran unwilling to engage in combat due to his impressive skills as a military leader. Yet, the old legend no longer existed and the only thing that restrained Voghgran was itself through the many plotters craving for either control of the Empire or greater autonomy within it.
And Buloger was afflicted by the factions trying to gain control of the council and the crown. Nothing new, but his body was growing weaker by the day, and each attempt to permanently cease this issue only created more headaches to handle.
Luckily for Bjorhold, novelty was something that always put him in a somewhat childish mood. Especially when it was something slightly confusing and immensely perplexing. Such as the case of the Kobolds.
Old literature spoke truly of these ferocious monsters, but those were not the aggressive beasts fought by their ancestors centuries ago. No, those were… new Kobolds. And smart ones as they were able to handle transactions and, from recent developments, also create businesses from thin air.
Oh, the idea of a Kobold putting Goblins in a Construction Company just felt so silly and yet creative. Yet, at the same time, he agreed in part to the bearer of this news as he gave her a most mirthful but watchful gaze.
“It’s indeed interesting.”
His beloved daughter was less inclined to grasp that, the young woman huffing and puffing like she used to do when she was a mere child demanding for someone to be punished for their misbehaving. Ignoring the fact that some trickery and naughtiness among children is quite acceptable.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Always the strict girl, but with a big heart that was hidden from most of the world. A small sacrifice he had to burden himself with from the very day he was crowned a Prince. But one he was, despite all love he had for his daughter, willing to go through again for the prosperity of the realm.
“And no laughing matter, father,” Ferinalm lamented dryly, trying her hardest to sound tough before her own remaining parent, but she failed to hold back a twitching smile from appearing from time to time. “This Kobold ‘Boss’, Pyro-”
“Yes?” Bjorhold pressed, curious to see where his daughter would go with this.
“I think he is trying to take over the principality by smuggling Goblins within our wall.”
“...is that so?”
“Yes-”
“Proof?” The prince hurled the one interjection he knew Ferinalm wasn’t prepared for as proved by her hesitation to answer to this. “I am so sorry, my dear robin, but you know through the lessons on law-making, that a ruler should not have a right to just jump at rumors without evidence.”
“Well, how should I do this? I can’t exactly send someone to infiltrate a company made by an absolute Goblin majority?”
“Hmm,” Bjorhold leaned back in his throne, enjoying the silence that these rare times bestowed upon him when together with his daughter. “How about you don’t take it too indirectly?”
The female Dwarf frowned, blue eyes narrowing in a curious display of irritation.
“What’s that supposed to mean, father?”
“Well, it’s a construction company and…” The prince blinked, pausing as he smiled at the idea he just came up with. “And the royal garden has been declining for years now.”
“That was my mother's garden,” Ferinalm interrupted in shock. “Father, I- you want me to just invite goblins to-”
“Not the Goblins,” Bjorhold jumped to stop his daughter again, a mirthful light twinkling from his eyes. “I meant the Kobold, the one that worries you.”
She looked flabbergasted at the idea. “A-A Kobold- a Fire-spitting Kobold in mother’s garden.”
…He shrugged.
“He has yet to burn the forests surrounding us,” Bjorhold remarked, growing a bit impatient with that lack of trust.
Sure, he was no dwarf, but this Pyro had done nothing to deserve this degree of distrust.
Heck, this prejudice was quite something discouraged by their society through the known discrimination dwarves of all sorts faced with humans and the tradition of trading that made them less zealous on the matter and more pragmatic on how to tackle the subject.
In fact, Bjorhold would go as far to say that his current achievements would warrant a praise or two if given the means to meet him. Hopefully within the means of a stroll to his late wife’s garden.
The woman would have been so proud of Ferinalm, a girl that inherited her beautiful golden hair, not in its mane-like form but within that small casket of sun rays that majestically channeled her beauty and her impulsive nature as a warrior, but also upset by how her undying lack of restraint with her emotions had alienated much support she was rightfully deserving.
Even if the factions within the council were handled, Ferinalm was an enemy to herself too- one that can’t be beaten through cunning plays and clever political moves. But through patience and self-understanding that was missing at this point.
“H-He could damage it. We don’t know if he is truly trustworthy,” The heiress rebuked.
“Which is why you shall be put in charge of monitoring and, if said Kobold proves to be a threat, you may arrest him and have him put to trial for any misbehavior. You may be there to keep the watch either as the heiress or… a guard.”
The girl frowned. “Which of the two options would give me the right to bear my warhammer during those sessions?”
Ah yes, the warhammer. Who decided to give it to her for her birthday? That definitely worked out just as I had intended.
Inwardly, Bjorhold could only shake his head at how the young woman took the tool meant to discourage her from learning how to fight and used it to learn how to fight even more viciously.
Also, the very item that was also known to push aside, with incredible but non-surprising ease, the many youths seeking to gain her respect and hand in marriage.
“The Guard.”
She regaled the prince with a pretty smile. “I shall fetch my helmet then.”
A loud sigh welcomed her departure, one that Bjorhold felt was less of irritation and one of genuine amusement veiled by his wonder- after all, he had never seen a Kobold before and, hopefully, this curious individual wasn’t going to ruin his late wife’s garden.
That would be one thing that would cross him immensely.