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The Baron von Bickenstadt
Book 2, Chapter 16

Book 2, Chapter 16

Chapter 16

The Baron was on his way to a nearby market. The streets were eerily empty. Dotutsu-cho was fairly large and had about half the population of Bickenstadt, the entire city was usually filled with people going about their business.

Suddenly, the Baron got a premonition, much like the one he got the night he was attacked by shinobi. He saw a man jump down from a nearby building, landing with his katana firmly embedded in the Baron’s neck. After that, his ten comrades would leap out from their covers and hack him to pieces.

The Baron heard something behind him and spun around, drawing his pistol and firing. He sidestepped the falling man and his katana, drawing his own katana as he scanned the rooftops and alleyways nearby. Men began to slowly reveal themselves, hopping down to the street and stepping out from alleyways. There were at least thirty of them, far more than the Baron saw in his premonition.

The Baron’s eyes began to glow bright red and one of the shinobi pointed at him with a katana.

“Kare o tomete!”

The Baron blew fire into the face of the first man who rushed at him. Fire magic tended to have a napalm effect, as soon as it touched something it just stayed and burned until there was nothing left, and any attempt to pat it out just resulted in spreading of the fire. The trade off, however, was that fire magic was extremely taxing on the body.

He turned to flambé another shinobi when he was kicked from behind, sending him tumbling forward. He managed to tuck in and roll back onto his feet and ran, pushing back any men in his way using a burst of gravity magic.

His body felt cold, and he could tell he could only afford a few more spells before organs began shutting down. And so, he ran back to Oshan HeadQuarters. He was fast, but the shinobi were faster, and he was forced to stop and use every trick he had learned over the years to kill his enemy as quickly as possible.

He ducked under the slash of a shinobi and touched his hand to the man’s stomach, creating a tiny directional gravity field of extreme force, shooting the man’s guts and spine out of his back onto the wall behind him, killing him instantly. He turned and redirected another man’s strike into the gravity field, ripping the sword out of his hands and following it up with a slash to the shinobi’s throat.

Man, the Katana feels wonky. I need a one handed saber dammit not some japanese bastard sword!

He started running again but barely made it thirty feet before a shuriken was lodged in his calf. He could ignore the pain, but not the fast acting paralytic slathered on said shuriken. It didn’t paralyze him like it should have, he was a massive wall of muscle and there was just not enough poison to get all of him immediately, but it would slow him down greatly.

He turned to parry a strike and instead bashed it aside. He was losing his fine motor skills, a death sentence for a fighting style based primarily on offense and finesse. The Baron clumsily punched forward and was easily dodged by the shinobi, who delivered a flurry of strikes to his unarmoured flank.

The Baron swiped and the strike flew well over the man’s head, who tackled the Baron soon after. The Baron was barely able to keep his guard up as the shinobi punched down at his face. Finally, the Baron’s stamina began to give out, and his guard slowly dropped as the shinobi began to overwhelm him. As the Baron’s arms fell to the side and the man delivered one last devastating blow, he withdrew a tanto from his yoroi and held it over his head.

The Baron saw a blurred figure pass by the man on top of him and he closed his eyes. It was finally time for him to die.

I’ll be seeing you…finally…

A few seconds passed, and nothing happened. A few more seconds, and still nothing. He opened his eyes and was greeted by Raijin looking down at him, crouched on his heels.

“You’re old.”

The Baron coughed violently and Raijin helped him sit up.

“And you’re an asshole.”

Raijin shrugged and waved over one of his men, who ripped out the shuriken and began to treat him with magic. The Baron didn’t even flinch as it was ripped out, which Raijin acknowledged with an impressed head nod. The blades were curved inward and created a nasty wound as they came out. Nothing a little healing magic won’t fix, but extremely painful.

“How did you find me?”

“We received a report that Takodin shinobi were spotted, and I had an idea of what they were doing. I’m guessing you're poisoned?”

The Baron nodded weakly. Raijin looked at his man worriedly.

“Can you do something about that?”

The man nodded and began to take out various herbs and flowers and began to quickly crush and mix them together. After making a few hand signs and touching the mixture to his forehead, he roughly crammed the medicine down the Baron’s throat.

After around two minutes, the Baron was regaining feeling in his limbs. The Baron stood up and retrieved his loan sword. He ground his teeth in frustration as he saw just how many men were sent to kill him. Around 30 bodies clad in all black littered the ground.

“Why would they send so fucking many to kill me?”

Raijin shrugged.

“I know. I’m almost jealous.”

The Baron tapped his foot, crossed his arm across his chest and bit his thumbnail in frustration, taking a moment to think and scheme.

“Raijin. How well do you understand explosives?”

He grinned.

“I know that they go boom?”

The Baron turned on his heel and power walked towards the direction of the Oshan headquarters.

“Good enough. Come. We’re going to retaliate.”

Raijin followed after the Baron.

“What’re you gonna do?”

The Baron smiled angrily.

“I’m going to blow a hole in their fucking wall and kill whoever looks important. You can take whatever looks expensive as well.”

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BOOM!

An explosion rocked the outside wall of the Takodin headquarters. Oshan Ashigaru, led by the Baron and Raijin, flooded through the hole, cutting down anyone who got caught up in the blast. The Baron ran over to the main building and signed with his hands, blowing fire onto the wooden exterior of the estate house itself. One of the Takodin guards ran over to stop him and was greeted by a plume of magical fire engulfing his body. The Baron finished him off as he screamed on the ground, slashing his throat without even sparing a glance at the writhing man, and entered the main building.

He grabbed a nearby servant by the collar and yelled in their face.

“Who here is important?! Tell me where they are!”

The terrified servant sputtered out that the treasurer was there, he was in his office in the east wing.

“Where is Takodin? Where are his sons?”

“The-they’re not here! They left to negotiate with the Oshan!”

The Baron threw the servant to the side and ran off to the east wing.

It looked almost like he was performing a complex dance as he tore his way through the hall, weaving around guards, cutting off hands and tearing open throats as he passed. He kicked a guard through a sliding door and was greeted by a large room full of men in full samurai armor.

The room was filled with couches and tables, and the walls were lined with beautiful pieces of art from a myriad of countries. In the middle of the far wall was a single sliding door. To the side was a plaque which read ‘treasurer’s office.’ The Baron drew a pistol and aimed at the ronin standing at the front.

“Let me pass. This is personal, no need to kill all of you.”

The Baron was joined by Raijin and a few of his men, taking up their fighting stances behind him. One of the ronins threw a shuriken, which the Baron deflected with his katana. He fired and dashed forward, followed by Raijin and his men.

The Baron locked swords with one of the ronin and pushed him against the wall, keeping his sword locked up against his body as the Baron kneed repeatedly, denting in the lamelar and steel plates of the ronin’s armor. He pulled back and pushed his blade through the ronin’s neck, immediately crashing through the door of the treasurer’s office before the body even hit the ground.

Raijin blocked a strike and returned with one of his own, which was easily deflected. Raijin swept with his nodachi, which the ronin jumped over and kicked him in the face. The ronin raised his katana and Raijin blurred, his pommel sending bits of the man’s chest armor flying off in every direction and him soaring backwards as it connected with him at supersonic speed. Raijin spun around and thrust his nodachi at the ground, blurring forward and appearing with the top third of his greatsword in the ronin’s neck.

Two of Raijin’s Ashigaru engaged a single ronin. They may not be samurai, or former samurai in this case, but they were hand trained by some of the best instructors the yakuza could find, battle hardened from dozens of clashes during turf wars, and confident in their skills from countless men turned to carrion by their hands.

The ronin thrust forward and was deflected by one of the Ashigaru. The other swiftly kicked the back of the man’s knee and released a flurry of blows. As the ronin was preoccupied with one, the other Ashigaru slipped behind him and thrust through the gap in his armpit, slicing clean through the major vein in that area.

The Baron drew his gun and fired at the one of the guards next to the small man, killing him instantly as it entered a small eye-hole in his mask. The other guard lunged at the Baron, performing a helmsplitter. The Baron parried, allowing the strike to slide down his katana, and striking back. The ronin ducked and tried to sweep the Baron’s leg, but the Baron jumped forward and knee him in the face, sending him reeling back and crashing into a wall.

They clashed, a flurry of blows leaving them both covered in cuts and bruises. The Baron thrust his saber past the ronin’s katana and dragged it along his neck, the ronin being saved by his half hannya mask, which extended down to his collarbone. The ronin palm striked the Baron’s chestplate, forcing him back. The ronin dashed forward and thrust at the gap at the Baron’s waist, which was slapped aside as the Baron simultaneously hammer-struck the ronin in the side of the head.

As the ronin was forcefully belt over the Baron lifted his leg high in the air and dropped the heel on the man’s head, wrenching his it forward. The Baron hopped forward and kneed him in the face, cracking his mask and sending him sprawling on the ground. The Baron thrust down at him, but the ronin was barely able to deflect his thrusts and kick the Baron’s knee, giving him time to get to his feet.

They rushed at each other and clashed, locking their katanas together and pushing against each other. The Baron reeled back and headbutt the ronin, fully shattering his mask. A single line of blood dripped down the Baron’s forehead.

The ronin headbutt back, barely phasing the Baron. The Baron pushed harder, slowly driving him back. The Baron pushed him all the way back to the treasurer’s desk, pushing him down onto it. The Baron’s eyes began to glow green and he punched the ronin in the chest. A the lanters around the room flickered and a thin spike of earth erupted from the ground, piercing through the desk and the ronin’s heart, lifting him up a few inches off the desk.

The Baron wiped the blood out of his eyes and focused his glare on the small man still in the office. He pointed his saber at the man, wiping off another bead and blood and tasting it as an intimidation tactic.

“You the treasurer?”

The man nodded fearfully.

“Who sent those shinobi after the Baron?”

The man slowly and fearfully tapped his chest.

“Good. That simplifies the problem.”

The Baron drew his pistol and fired, the bullet punching straight through the treasurer's chest, leaving a massive and nasty wound which exposed his crushed heart through a small, punched open portion of flesh.

The Baron holstered his pistol and left the office, finding Raijin and his men still fighting. The Baron was extremely impressed with Raijin’s men. They were all Ashigaru, the peasant soldiers of Wa society, and yet they worked together near flawlessly to overpower former samurai, men who were raised from birth to live by the sword, with ease. The Baron drew his pistol and fired, killing one of the remaining three ronin.

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“We should leave! I set the west wing on fire, remember?!”

Raijin lopped off the head of a ronin and blinked over to the last one, his nodachi appearing in the man’s open mouth.

“Right, let’s grab some shit and go. The treasurer's gotta have some good stuff in there!”

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A day after murdering the Takodin treasurer, the Baron was walking around the market. He wasn’t planning on killing anyone today, he just wished to walk around and get some food. He stopped at a stall and ordered some grilled squid. The Baron liked squid, though he usually had it in a ceviche type dish, which had a different textural experience than the grilled squid he was currently snacking on.

He sat down at a nearby fountain and just watched people go about their business. It boggled his mind that this was still a colony, it was obviously prosperous enough to declare independence, and as far as he could tell, they did not receive much assistance from the mainland.

The Baron subscribed to conflict theory, and with the state of powerful yakuza clans beginning to consolidate the entire city he figured that it was only a matter of time before Dokotsu-cho declared independence and possibly even went to war with the mainland. If it came to it, he figured he would consider sending troops to assist in their independence.

If they become an official nation it will become a better place to live. The Oshan seem to be positioning themselves almost as a samurai clan, I wonder if their commoner status would make the idea of a democracy easier to stomach?

As he pondered Dokotsu-cho’s place on the geopolitical stage, a man came over and sat next to him. He wore a simple blue jinbei with no special markings on it. He wore no cowl, which meant he was not a monk, but the blue clothing meant he belonged to the Daibutsu clan. The Baron was surprised he had yet to encounter anyone from Daibutsu, or the Odari. Saito made them seem important, but they had largely stayed out of the conflict ever since the riots.

The man looked old, about as old as the Baron. His skin was wrinkled and leathery, his eyes were constantly squinting like he was looking into a bright light, and he had clear frown lines. On his face was a patchy goatee, long drooping mustache, and unkempt sideburns.

He ate from a skewer with some small multicolored balls on it, something that the Baron had been meaning to try. The man looked at the Baron and smiled. His voice was old and world weary. It had the creaky quality that many people developed in their old age.

“Hello there. You’re the Baron von Bickenstadt, are you not?”

The Baron palmed his pistol and took a bite of his squid.

“Yes, I am. I imagine it is not hard to find a man such as I in this place.”

The man laughed a delightful, polite and reserved old man laugh.

“Oh yes, I could spot you from a mile away!”

The Baron chuckled a bit and finished off his squid, eyeing the man dangerously.

“So, what business have you with me? I can’t imagine I have done anything to earn the ire of the Daibutsu.”

The man waved his hand dismissively.

“Oh no, I’m not here on behalf of my clan. I am but a humble artisan, come to offer my services.”

The Baron looked incredulous.

“An artisan? What kind of artisan?”

“I am a gunsmith. I have quite the passion for firearms, if I do say so myself! Here.”

He reached into his pocket and the Baron eyed him dangerously. The man made a placating gesture and withdrew a firearm, holding it by the barrel. It was beautifully made, the handle was ivory and inlaid with rose gold in a cracked pattern. The hammer was shaped like a dragon and had two small red gems for eyes. The barrel was angular, a hexagonal cylinder characteristic of Wa firearms.

“Don’t worry, the inside is perfectly round, and rifled. I know you Gaijin are always nervous about the barrels.”

The Baron inspected the pistol, naked awe across his face.

“This is the finest firearm I have ever seen.”

He pulled back the hammer and pulled the trigger. The mechanism worked like a dream.

“I can make as many of those as you like. For a price. That one is free, though.”

The Baron nodded his head gratefully and replaced one of the pistols at his breast.

“Ok, I have made up my mind. I would like for you to work for me. I’ll have you open up a gunsmith in Bickenstadt. You will receive state funding in exchange for cheaper prices on weapons and bulk orders. There are some concepts which I will need to teach you, so your work will begin when I am done here. Is that ok with you?”

The man almost jumped for joy.

“Oh yes! Of course that is alright with me! That is even better than what I was hoping for!”

“Oh, I almost completely forgot. What is your name?”

“I am Tokitaka Tanegashima, named for the man who brought firearms to all of Wa!”

“Is Tokitaka your first or last name?”

“First. I am using your eastern naming convention because you are from the Empire.”

“Well then, I thank you for that-how thoughtful. Do you think you can make it to Bickenstadt without me? I would like for you to meet with some of my men. I imagine they know some of the things I would like you to know, and at least one of them will be happy to have someone to teach.”

Tokitaka nodded his head and took a bite of his food.

“Yes, of course. I can find a boat heading to Bickenstadt. Should be somewhat easy.”

“When you get there, make sure to tell the police, uh, the guards at the docks, that you are there on order of the Baron. They will take you to my son in Castle Bickenstadt and he should get you set up with your gunsmith. I am expanding my mercenary company, so I will be needing more firearms.”

Tokitaka shook the Baron’s hand.

“Thank you so much! I shall not let you down!”

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Tokitaka stepped off the boat on the Bickenstadt docks, a sack with everything he owned over his shoulder. Most of his things were actually the property of the Daibutsu clan, independent business owners were nonexistent in Dokotsu-cho, so it was all back home. All businesses were functionally renting their equipment from the yakuza clans in exchange for protection from other clans, something which many people whispered could very easily transition over to being taxation instead of extortion.

Tokitaka was glad he found a merchant vessel willing to let him ride along, and they only asked for him to buy his own food! He approached a man holding a musket whom he assumed was what the Baron called a ‘policeman’.

“Excuse me, sir. Are you a ‘policeman’?”

The guard looked at Tokitaka annoyedly.

“Yeah. What do you want?”

“I was told to ask you to escort me to Castle Bickenstadt. By order of the Baron.”

The policeman looked incredulous.

“And why should I believe you?”

Tokitaka immediately started sweating.

“Uh, well, he didn’t really give me any proof…”

The policeman laughed heartily.

“Don’t worry, I’m just joking! This happens all the time, he never remembers to give people proof! Far as I’m concerned that’s the most realistic answer! Follow me.”

Tokitaka breathed a sigh of relief.

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“So, my father has decided to sponsor your gunsmithy?”

“Yes sir, that is correct. He said I was to learn some things from his men, though he didn’t really specify who that would be or what that would be.”

Wolfgang pinched the bridge of his nose.

“No, he wouldn’t have. Probably didn’t even think of it. Alright.”

Wolfgang picked up a map of Bickenstadt and briefly checked for any areas marked ‘open’.

“Well, we have space near Bickenstadt castle to make your smithy…tell me, what do you know of industrialization?”

“Never heard of it.”

Wolfgang sighed audibly.

“Great. Alright then, I should get you set up with Jean.”

Wolfgang reluctantly got up from his desk and headed to the door. A servant came in carrying a tray with food on it.

“Oh, excellent. Thank you for my lunch, now, if you could escort Herr…”

“Tanegashima.”

“...Herr Tanegashima to Jean’s workshop I would be very grateful.”

The servant nodded and gestured for Tokitaka to follow after him. The servant led him outside, which made Tokitaka nervous that they would going to kick him out instead. The servant did not, in fact, kick him out. Jean’s workshop was just outside Castle Bickenstadt. It was very long, half as long as the castle itself, and decently wide. The servant opened the door and gestured for Tokitaka to enter.

Jean was at his workbench drawing up blueprints. Next to him was a woman wearing landsknecht’s clothes. Occasionally she would point to something and Jean would erase said thing. Tokitaka spoke up.

“Um, hello.”

Jean jumped slightly. The woman didn’t. Jean set his pencil down and faced Tokitaka.

“Oui? What is it you wa…eh…”

Jean looked at the old man before him. In Elven culture, elders were heavily valued, as an elf that was visibly aged would have nearly a millenia of experience.

“...need?”

Jean stuttered as he spoke.

“I am Tokitaka Tanegashima, and the Baron has hired me to work for him. I am going to be a gunsmith. His son informed me that you are going to teach me what he called ‘industrialization’.”

Jean looked to the woman and shrugged.

“Alana, could you grab some more paper? I believe I may ‘ave a lot to explain. Tell me, Tokitaka, ‘ow many weapons ‘ave you made in your lifetime?”

“Let’s see…around…200?”

“We can produce that many in a year. Today, I shall introduce you to the concept of standardization and interchangeable parts!”

Alana set down some papers on Jean’s workbench.

“Merci, Madame Albrecht. Would you like to ‘elp me teach this man from Wako about the wonders of industrialization?”

Alana smiled and sat down next to Jean.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world!”

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A special newspaper had been custom ordered to the most prestigious Nachrichtenunternehmen, made possible by the introduction of the printing press, which was of uncertain origins in this world as the Empire, the Elven Republic, and the Ottoman Empire all claimed ownership.

The apprentice applied ink to his roll and spread an even coat across the metal lettering, all under the watchful eye of his mentor.

“The third paragraph is too thick, it’s going to spread out and ruin the lettering.”

The boy sighed and flattened it out, disappointed that he had made yet another mistake. His mentor laughed and slapped his shoulder, causing the boy to accidentally fill a letter in entirely.

“Don’t worry, boy, you’re doin’ great! Better than I would’ve when I was your age! Though I had to teach myself.”

The apprentice grunted as he wiped the letter, replaced the ink, and backed off. The mentor placed a fine sheet of vellum over the text and placed a slab of wood over the vellum. He moved the platen over the wood and pulled down on a bar, causing it to push down onto the wood with great force.

He moved everything and took out the vellum, holding it up to the light to check how much light passes through, and found there was very little. He showed his apprentice the finished product, and again, he marveled at how clean everything was, and swelled with pride knowing that he had produced that poster:

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Der Bickenstadt Zeitung

Breaking: The first Bickenstadt City Assembly will take place on September 6th, 1660.

This Saturday marks the beginning of what our baron Johan Bleichröder von Bickenstadt refers to as a “Democracy”, meaning “a government by the people, of the people, for the people.” Any may come to the City Assembly Building and propose an idea for a policy or ask for permission to build or buy up property for commerce.

The people of Bickenstadt will vote on the things that affect them. If you wish for something to happen, simply come to the Assembly and vote for it! Any resident of Bickenstadt, man, woman, human, non-human, may come and have a say in our fledgling democracy!

However, there are three stipulations:

* You must be of at least 17 years of age

* You must live in Bickenstadt full time

* The Bickenstadt noble family may Veto a policy, meaning oppose its implementation

The Baron promises to use this power sparingly, and to prove he truly believes in democracy, and by extension the common folk, he has added a limitation to his “Veto power”. If 55% or more of Bickenstadt voters vote against the Baron’s Veto, it will fail, and the people’s wishes will be respected.

The Bickenstadt City Assembly will take place once every six months, meaning the next Assembly will be March 6th, 1660. The Assembly will take place all day, between the hours of 6am-12am, meaning from morning to midnight. During this time, the people will propose and vote on any issue they care strongly about. There will be two breaks, one at noon for lunch, and another in the evening for dinner.

Attendance all day is not mandatory, but it is highly recommended. This should also serve as a time for people to discuss things with each other, and even have open and reasoned debates. The Baron himself will be there, though his role is solely to facilitate discussion and collect the votes. Do not fear, you will not be penalized if you disagree with him or work against his interests, and his input will not be given unless asked. He will oversee things until the people of Bickenstadt understand the system well enough to run it themselves!

Additionally, there will be coffee available at a reasonable price, provided by local cafes, and the Baron does not want loss of income to prevent participation in democracy, so if you wish to participate, but you work during those hours on that day, come to the Bickenstadt City Government and apply for paid time off so that you may do your Civil Duty!

If this experiment proves to be successful, if the people of Bickenstadt flourish and thrive under this system, then the Baron has promised to export it to as many places as he can! So get involved! Care about your city! And do what you can to help it thrive!

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The boy tilted his head to the side.

“Sir, I’ve been wondering, what exactly does any of this mean?”

The mentor crossed his arms.

“Well, honestly boy, that remains to be seen. If it goes well, it could change everything, I think. Not sure what the Baron’s thinking, giving up his power, but I’m not gonna question it. I’ll be at the assembly on the 6th, and I think you should come with.”

The boy looked confused.

“Why should I come? I can’t participate for like, four years.”

The mentor squinted his eyes at the boy.

“Well, first of all you are just supposed to say ‘yes sir’ when I tell you to come to something-”

“You said I ‘should’ come. I thought that meant I didn’t have to?”

“Boy, when something is actually optional, I will tell you. You’re coming so you see how things go. If this stuff works, you’re going to need to understand how. Just like a printing press. The important thing for you ain’t that it works, but how it works! Now put that one with the others, clean up, and go home. That one was the last of what Wolfgang von Bickenstadt ordered.”