Chapter 10
“...I got so used to Bickenstadt…I didn’t…realize how…widespread it was.”
Fergus leaned over and rubbed Ludwin’s shoulders.
“Aye ken ‘ow ya feel. Orkney ain’t got slavery, tha gods ain’t allow it. Comin’ tae tha Empire for tha first time was an…experience.”
The two men sat together in silence, watching the scene of elven slaves working on farms spanning as far as the eye could see.
They were in Ebenenstadt, the breadbasket of the Empire, responsible for over half of the grain produced in the Empire. It was also the largest importer of elven slaves, as farm work was hard work, and some of the jobs required were strenuous and dangerous.
Ludwin leaned back in the cart they had hitched a ride on. The farmer driving turned and looked at the pair of men.
“Y’all ain’t never seen slaves? Heard ya’ll got a buncha thems in the big city.”
Ludwin shook his head.
“I am from Bvarien, not much elven slave labor, and we spend most of our time these days in Bickenstadt, where slavery in all forms is banned.”
The farmer nodded his head.
“Sounds fair ‘nough. Always thought it were a bit rude to keep ‘em in chains, but, well, ain’t my choice to make.”
Fergus shrugged.
“Well, if it ever ended up bein’ your choice, wouldya free ‘em?”
The farmer looked up and scratched his chin as he thought, taking off and adjusting his hat as he spoke.
“Well, yeah probably. I work with ‘em every day, they seem good ‘nough. Least I’d do is nix the chains. I wouldn’t want to be chained up like that-Oh look at that, we’s almost at Plantageburg fellas. ‘M I droppin’ y’all off here?”
“Oh yes, thank you.”
Ludwin handed the farmer a small bag of Reiksgeld.
“For you troubles.”
The farmer smiled.
“Well, you ain’t need to offer me nothin’”
He grabbed the bag and slapped Ludwin’s shoulder.
“Still don’t mean I ain’t gonna take what I can get!”
The three men shared a laugh as the farmer let them off in the city square before he went to register with the Plantageburg government. Ludwin took in a deep breath and almost coughed. The air smelled like fertilizer and sweat, about what he expected coming to the farming province.
“Should we find lodging?”
Fergus nodded.
“First thing you dae, no matter tha situation.”
The two men found an inn that seemed acceptable and that Ludwin could swear he’d seen before in both Bickenstadt and Leibensburg called the Dented Anvil. It was a mid level inn, not ritzy but not a glorified shack. The two entered and found a family of dwarves running around with trays of food and drink, as well as patrons drinking and carousing.
Ludwin approached the bar and flagged the attention of the dwarf working behind it.
“Excuse me, are there any rooms available for the night? One bed is fine.”
The dwarf nodded.
“Three Reiksgeld a night.”
Ludwin placed down the Reiksgeld and a second later the dwarf set down a key labeled ‘13’. He picked it up and said his thanks before leading Fergus to their room. They set their things down and began to look about the room.
Ludwin opened the window to look outside and found the view to be acceptable. The town itself was a little dirty and grimy, but the fields outside the town were breathtaking. They grew many different crops, even exotic ones not supposed to survive in the climate thanks to acclimatizing magic pioneered by the Orcs of Orcland.
“The only thing ruining the view is the knowledge that all of this is done with coerced labor.”
Fergus walked over and embraced Ludwin from behind.
“Aye ken ‘ow ya feel, can neva get used tae seein’ folks in chains like that, but we cannae just focus on it. Focus on tha fact that we’re gonna free these folks from bondage.”
Ludwin gingerly touched Fergus’s hand with his own.
“I know, love, I know. It’s just hard.”
The two men stood in silence, simply content with each other’s presence.
|
|
|
The next day, April 7th, 1661, the two men hitched a ride with a small band of mercenaries heading towards Orkney. There was always some sort of trouble brewing other there, and while many Orkniers were no fan of the Empire, the reputation of Imperial mercenaries spoke for itself.
It would take them all morning for them to arrive at the border, but that was not a problem. Fergus and Ludwin could always find a way to entertain themselves, either through talking to their traveling companions, or talking to each other.
“So, what are you folks traveling to Orkney for?”
The mercenary looked at Ludwin like he was an invalid. Ludwin smiled and make a placating gesture.
“I know you’re going for mercenary work, I mean do you have anyone in mind you wish to sell your services to?”
The mercenary nodded.
“Yeah, we’re plannin’ on sellin’ our greatswords to Fjarðarland, we hear they’re gearing up to ‘incorporate’ some of the nearby tribes and cults. Nothing we Imperials love more than incorporating people into something larger, huh?”
Ludwin and the mercenary shared a polite chuckle.
“So, what are you guys doing over here? I recognize that symbol on your chest, you a merchant working for Albrecht?”
Ludwin smiled.
“It’s a tad complicated. I used to work for them, but I am largely a mercenary these days”
“Ah, you sellin’ your sword too?”
Ludwin shook his head.
“Oh no, nothing like that. I am traveling with my friend here to visit his family. He’s been gone for years and I’ve been wanting to meet with them anyways. Orkniers are kind folks.”
“Oh yeah? Where’s his folks, if you don’t mind me askin’?”
Ludwin turned to look at Fergus. Fergus spoke.
“Heimili Stríðsmannsins.”
The mercenary and his friends looked at Fergus in surprise.
“You a Berzerkeri?”
Fergus nodded. The mercenary whistled.
“Damn, you must be one tough son of a bitch, huh?”
Fergus smiled.
“Wanna find oot?”
The man raised his hands in a placating gesture.
“Oh by the gods no! I wouldn’t stand a chance against one of you guys one on one.”
Fergus grinned widely.
“Suit yerself!”
|
|
Ludwin was pissed. He had just gotten out of the Land of Everlasting Rain a little over a week ago, and he was again soaked from head to toe. He gingerly stepped onto a very thin board which he felt could absolutely not hold his weight.
“Donnae worry Ludwin, woods enchanted with strengthenin’ magic!”
Ludwin looked down at the rushing waters before him, holding onto the massive spike of earth erupting from the bottom of the roaring river which made up the entrance to the Warrior’s Home, the Wyrm’s Teeth.
“It looks slippery, and I am exhausted!”
“Oh quit yer whinin’ an’ get movin’ Chridhe.”
The two men crossed the perilous boardwalks and ladders which made up Orkney’s infrastructure. Ludwin felt there had to be a better way to do things, but this was the way that Orkniers preferred their infrastructure.
Ludwin stepped off onto the top of a flattened rock spike and leaned on his thighs as he panted.
“Why do I keep getting sent to these places?”
Fergus tapped a board with his foot. It was still attached strongly.
“Because yer with me, luaidh.”
Ludwin looked up at Fergus and smiled.
“Well, I’d like to say it’s not worth it-”
He stood up tall and caressed Fergus’s face.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“But I am a poor liar. At least when it comes to you, love.”
Fergus smiled and began to cross the gap.
“I were gonnae say Ludwin, you’re gettin’ real good at lyin’ tae others.”
Ludwin took in a deep breath and began to cross as well.
“That’s all fine and good, but it won’t matter when I inevitably fall into the water and drown.”
“Ach, no, if ya were gonna fall, ya woulda done it by now. Ya aren’t fated tae fall, Chridhe, yer meant for betta things.”
Ludwin’s foot slipped and he grabbed a nearby nail driven into the rock for just this occurrence. He took a deep, deep breath before he continued. And finally, after roughly three hundred years of crossing massive and terrifying gaps, they fully crossed the islets and cliffs leading to Fergus's home.
“See Ludwin, it weren’t that hard.”
Ludwin lay on the ground, panting.
“I see why you are the way you are, this is insanity!”
Fergus crouched down and booped Ludwin’s nose.
“Naw, it’s just Orkney. Let’s get goin’, I’m sure tha lads ‘ave noticed oos by now, might as well meet ‘em halfway.”
|
|
|
|
Hans Volkner sat at a desk, reading through a report.
“Francois, go fetch me some coffee.”
The elven slave bowed to him and quickly shuffled out of the room. Hans had been handsomely rewarded by the Empress for his information about the inner workings of the Baron’s operations.
He was currently reading a report given to him by Abbot Adol. The only instructions were to memorize it, which thankfully Hans was very good at. He had always had a very sharp memory, something which the Baron used to value highly.
It was a detailed breakdown and description of the new method of warfare the Baron had stumbled across, something he called ‘Linear Warfare’. The gist of it seemed to be that men would stand in lines only a few soldiers deep, each one armed with a firearm. They would fire at the enemy to soften them up, then either the infantry or cavalry, ideally both, would charge them to break their lines.
There was also a heavy focus on artillery softening up formations before any fighting broke out, which made sense due to the increasingly sophisticated batteries being produced these days.
He was having trouble truly visualizing what needed to be done. His elven slave set down a cup of coffee and Hans took a sip. He was a little disgusted by how much he relied on the slaves given to him and his family, but they were far too useful to get rid of, despite their degenerate nature.
He felt the slave bow and back away from his chair, so he turned and found a welcome figure in his doorway.
“Empress! What brings you to my room?”
The Empress smiled, her beauty almost stunning Hans for a moment.
“I just wanted to know how much progress you have made. I am investing a lot of resources into you, your prospects look bright.”
“That is heartening to hear, ma’am. I am making steady progress. This style of warfare is fairly ingenious, I’m surprised we haven’t thought of it before, this seems to be the natural conclusion of our current firearm technology. I think that the era of traditional Imperial Warfare may be coming to a close, though this is still mostly untested, and I am having some trouble visualizing the maneuvers.”
The Empress walked closer to him.
“Lucky day, I was coming to help you visualize. We have a handful of men, just one hundred nothing huge, currently being drilled. Come and watch their line, it will be helpful.”
|
Hans openly marveled at the moving line of men. Their lines were tidy and tight, and they were moving fairly quickly. Even as they slowed to keep in formation they still moved faster than the massive and dense formations of pikemen that made up traditional Imperial warfare.
They came to a stop and straightened their lines. The first row aimed at the targets 100 yards out and fired, dropping to their knees before the second row fired. The second dropped and the third fired. A second later a trumpet began to play, and the men began to yell. They raised their muskets, plug bayonets inside as they still had yet to create the attached bayonets.
They ate up the 100 yards in less than twenty seconds, still in formation as they moved. The massive wall of men descending on your position would terrify any man, if they charged a formation already weakened by cannon and musket fire they would easily push them off the battlefield, if they stayed around to absorb the charge at all.
“Empress, I can very clearly see the effectiveness of this style of warfare. I believe this would easily beat any pike formation, as they could simply fire into the extremely densely packed men and hit almost every shot from much farther than 100 yards.”
The Empress smiled, her pale, beautiful face and sharp blue eyes sending shivers down Hans’s spine. Not only was she just extremely beautiful, but her gift from the gods heavily increased her appeal, or the fear she elicited depending on how she wants to be perceived.
“Yes, I agree. We will be transitioning our regular forces over to this.”
She turned to a knight nearby.
“Inform the garrison commander of Citadel Freiderick that he is to begin sending large amounts of soldiers back to Jagstadt or Grössenstadt for training. Keep at least seventy five thousand at a time for the garrison.”
The knight saluted her and ran off to relay her orders.
“Tell me, Hans, how would you like to head the reorganization efforts?”
Hans dropped to one knee, looking down at the ground in a deep bow.
“I would want nothing more, Empress.”
The Empress smiled, sending a shiver down the spine of every man standing nearby. This was different than usual, however. This was not her beauty charming the men, it felt far more…dangerous.
“Excellent.”
|
|
|
|
University of Bickenstadt, April 7th, 1661. The Baron had been asked to guest lecture, and Erich Wemhoff was very excited to see it.
The Baron stood at the front of the class, drawing something on the massive chalkboard board behind the lecture stand. There were four figures drawn in a fairly rudimentary style, a human, a dwarf, an Orc, and an elf.
“Tell me, class, what exactly have I drawn here?”
Erich raised his hand.
“Four different races?”
The Baron nodded.
“Yes, that is correct. Now for a harder question, what do all of these races have in common? What do we have in common with a dwarf, an Orc, and even an elf?”
The class was quiet for a few seconds before someone spoke up.
“We’re all…bipedal?”
The Baron looked at the man in surprise, then smiled and chuckled.
“Yes, son, they are all bipedal. That wasn’t quite what I intended, but good work. I will give my answer now, because I believe the answer does not come naturally to people: They all have sapience. Consciousness, if you will. They are all moral agents capable of right and wrong, and they are feeling beings capable of complex emotions, which brings me to the topic of my lecture, though I hope for it to be more of a discussion, ethical systems!”
The Baron erased the figures from the board.
“Now, what is an ethical system? Does anyone have ideas?”
Erich raised his hand.
“It’s a set of moral principles that you try to act on?”
The Baron wrote out what he said.
“Exactly, couldn’t have put it better myself. Now, before I get into this properly, I have a small caveat. I don’t wish to simply evangelize my beliefs, I wish for you to learn about things and come to your own conclusions. I will, of course, not hesitate to add my own opinion if I feel it is important or can facilitate better discussion. You do not need to take what you hear as gospel, this is ethics-an inherently personal and individualized field, but I do hope that you absorb as much knowledge as you can.”
The Baron began writing on the board.
“What I am going to share with you all are concepts brought over from another world, as many things are. Have any of you heard of the Enlightenment?”
None of the students raised their hands.
To be expected.
“The Enlightenment was a philosophical movement created during a time of great change and scientific advancement, as well as during an influx of coffee houses incidentally enough. Essentially the same conditions we have today, actually. If you wish to boil it down to a single idea, it was looking to increase human happiness.”
The Baron wrote and underlined the word ‘happiness’.”
“Like I said this comes from another world, there were no different races, simply imagined ones. Fundamentally, the idea was that men, no matter their position in society, are deserving of rights, from the lowest peasant to the highest king. Now, in this world, we can expand this idea to encompass the non-human races.”
One of the students raised their hand.
“Sir, if I may ask, why? Was the idea not created for humans? Does it still hold true for races like the dwarves or elves?”
“Excellent question. The Enlightenment, like I said, held that all men are created equal, that every person had moral value. Now, why did people have moral value? Because they were thinking, feeling beings, just like yourself. It is what makes a person human, at least to them it was. However, we humans are not the only ones to think and feel in this world. All of the sapient races can. It is a natural extension of Enlightenment values to include non-humans.”
The students murmured to each other as they took notes.
“I have traveled very far, met a lot of different people, and the one thing that I noticed the most, is that people are really not that different no matter where you go. If you pull back all of the aesthetics of different cultures, you find that we are all more similar than different. The only thing that truly differentiates us, makes people act and feel different from others, is ideology.”
Erich raised his hand.
“Like racism?”
“Exactly!”
The Baron wrote and circled ‘racism’ on the board.
“Imperial Race Theory is an ideology. It comes with several assumptions that can all be boiled down to Human Supremacy. I have read the papers and seen the studies done to prove the propositions of Imperial Race Theory, and let me tell you those papers were poor, and their methodology deeply unserious. However, the average person who grows up hearing and learning Imperial Racial Theory don’t know that, and so they believe what it tells them.”
The Baron wrote two words, ‘Bickenstadt’ and ‘Grössenstadt’.
“Imperial Race Theory, as the morals in which it prescribes, is what separates Bickenstadt and Grössenstadt. In Bickenstadt, we do not learn these things, and so our population tends to be far more progressive than theirs. As students I am sure you have noticed in the past few years that those other students from Grössenstadt have been getting into more fights here, whether started by you or them.”
The students around the classroom nodded.
“If you ever wondered why, that is why. Imperial propaganda. What you learn in Bickenstadt, the ethical system we attempt to imbue our people with, are Enlightenment values like Liberty, Equality, and Fraternity, the motto of the French Revolution of the other world, the direct inspiration for La République Elfique, a democratic one which would eventually topple their monarchy and replace it with a republic similar to what we have in Bickenstadt.”
He took a moment to drink some water.
“In Grössenstadt, however, they are given racist propaganda to make them callous towards any out-group they find and fiercely loyal to the Empire above all else. The nonhuman races are not just nonhumans, they are subhumans, to be treated however you please. A vastly different ethical system, which is why you find yourselves in disagreement with their students so often.”
The Baron erased the board and wrote something new, ‘nature’ and ‘nurture’.
“Now, do not let yourselves think of this as an inherent thing, that is in their wheelhouse. Essentialism is something we should avoid, it allows you to justify horrific things, like racism. No Grössenstadter is inherently racist, and no Bickenstadter is inherently progressive, we are all a product of the influences we have in life.”
A student raised his hand.
“So does that mean people just turn into what their governments want them to turn into?”
The Baron smiled.
“Yes, very much so. The ideology of the ruling class is that of the people. There are, of course, people who go against the grain, but for the most part the ideology of the elite will be what the masses believe. The elite wants the masses to agree with them, and they make it so through propaganda and censorship. I will note, yes, my government does propaganda, anti-racist and pro-democracy propaganda, which are both things that are important to me.”
He paused to take a breath.
"Now, what do I want you to take away from this rambling?"
He wrote on the board.
“The ideology of the elites…”
He wrote ‘me’ in big letters.
“Is the ideology of the masses.”
He wrote ‘you’ and connected the two.
“Keep this in mind when you consume anything, from books to plays to pamphlets. You should critically analyze them to learn what they are trying to accomplish. For instance, what is Hans Brueckner trying to accomplish when he writes his books?”
A student raised his hand.
“To make us laugh?”
“That is definitely part of it, but not the whole thing. Anyone else?”
The class was quiet. After close to thirty seconds of dead silence, Erich raised his hand.
“I remember there was a book he wrote about an elven slave who gets freed through a strange mix of happenstance and comedic timing. Is he trying to get it in our heads that elves should be free?”
The Baron smiled brightly and pointed to Erich enthusiastically.
“Exactly! No work is free of the influence of ideology and morals. His ethical system holds that elves should be free, and so his books are filled with progressive ideology, and that book is a work of subtle propaganda disguised as a comedy book. Either that, or he set out to write something funny, and his biases, his ideology, naturally came through in his work. Even without thinking about it, ideology and ethical systems find their way into all media.”