Chapter 21
March 16th, 1663.
The Baron was meeting with some important men in a neutral Anarchic settlement a few miles outside of Leibensburg. The only people he had with him were Ludwin, Udo, Helmut, and Gaius.
The men they were meeting were garrison commanders from Leibensburg, three out of eight total. They sat in a tent around a circular table, sipping the beers offered to them. The Baron leaned forward in his seat and rested his elbows on the table.
“So, names and positions, please. And why you’re here.”
One of the men, an older gentleman with white hair and beard, spoke first.
“I am Garrison Commander Oskar Heimlutz. The Grand Imperial Army killed my sons when they attacked Leibensburg a few years ago. I won’t forgive them for that.”
Another man nodded his head, a middle aged man with hints of gray beginning to show in his beard.
“I am Garrison Commander Eli Groester. My wife and son were killed in the confusion of everything when the Grand Imperial Army attacked Leibensburg.”
The Baron turned to the last remaining man, a young man with a clean shaven face and strong jawline.
“And you?”
The man smiled.
“Garrison Commander Derek Monstahl. I believe in the cause.”
The Baron smiled brightly.
“Well, you are all a welcome addition to my forces. You are doing a good thing, men. The liberation of the elves is essential for our nation’s soul.”
Heimlutz shrugged his shoulders.
“I don’t really care for knife ears, I just can’t stand the army.”
“Well, that’s not really a problem either. No slave cares who is liberating them, or how much they truly care about their plight, they only care about being liberated. Even if you don’t care, you will be remembered as being on the right side of history.”
The young man smiled brightly, while the other two just looked at each other and shrugged. The Baron continued.
“Regardless, we are all here for a reason: to take Leibensburg. Tell me about the situation in the city.”
Heimlutz spoke.
“The Empress replaced the governor with a lackey of hers. He’s cruel and stupid, many people want him gone, including us. Also, a good portion of the garrison are former or current Grand Imperial Army. Two of eight sections of the garrison are Grand Imperial Army, and two others are former soldiers.”
Groester spoke.
“There is one commander whose allegiance is unclear, Hermann Tostler. He generally likes to keep to himself, so we don’t know him too well. He is tasked with the slums, and he does a good job of it too.”
The Baron spoke.
“Can I get an idea of numbers?”
Heimlutz nodded.
“Yes, each garrison commander is given four hundred men to manage for a total of thirty two hundred men.”
The Baron nodded.
“We have twenty five thousand men, not to mention our allies. If we can get inside the city then taking it is simply a formality. Do you think you could ascertain Hermann’s allegiance by tomorrow?”
The men all nodded.
“Excellent. Then, all we need is a time and an action. All I ask for you men is to open your gates at three in the morning and fight for us. You and your men will wear headbands to differentiate yourselves. Red, white, and blue. Or just white if you can't manage all three.”
The men all nodded.
“Perfect, then get to work and send a runner to me when you’ve discovered his allegiance.”
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Hermann Tostler was one of eight garrison commanders at the capital city of Leibensburg. He was sitting in his office, staring at the ceiling. He had been doing that quite a bit lately, staring off into space as he thought about what to do next.
He had his hands full with managing the slums of Leibensburg. The people there had always been a rowdy bunch, many of them could only be made to see the error of their ways via cudgel. However, too much violence and they would begin to resent him, so he needed to play his cards very carefully.
Plus, he never really enjoyed beating people randomly. He tried to keep a level head, which was very difficult at times, as no one on the planet could come up with more devastating insults than slum dwellers. However, he was generally known for keeping the peace and being reasonable.
A little too reasonable for some of his colleague’s tastes, but he truly could not care less about their opinions. The way they wanted to handle things would just simply cause constant rioting, at least in Tostler’s opinion. The Leibenstadt peasantry were always strangely opposed to the idea of someone lording over them. Especially for commoners.
The door to his office opened and a few men entered. He did not lower his gaze.
“Tostler, how goes things?”
Tostler looked over at the door to see a few fellow garrison commanders, a young man, an old man, and one in between their ages.
“Monstahl. Things are hard, as always. The civil war has people restless, especially when it’s done on moral grounds. And the Baron’s position on the class system has the slums riled up.”
He shook his head.
“There’s been talk of people sympathizing with the Baron’s forces and his cause, maybe even defecting to join him! The people of the slums are convinced that democracy would solve their problems.”
Garrison Commander Monstahl nodded his head.
“Well, I think it would help quite a bit actually. I think the Baron has some pretty good ideas, personally.”
He began to peruse the bookshelf.
“You have quite the collection here, didn’t realize you were so learned. I figured you were put here as punishment, but it seems you’ve been put here because you are a good man for the job.”
He took out a first edition book named ‘Imperial Nutritional Sciences and Welfare’, a treatise on how long people could work without food, and what the absolute bare minimum amount of food people need to live a semi-healthy life was.
It was published just after the Black Hunger, and many scholars found it caustic to read through because of its frank and detailed descriptions and discussions on the stages of starvation, a topic that was very touchy in Imperial academic studies, for obvious reasons.
“Owning this book, I assume you take your job keeping the slums together seriously. Tell me, what do you think of the Baron’s ideas?”
Tostler furrowed his brow. He didn’t entirely like what was going on.
“I think they’re interesting ideas, but I am a busy man. I haven’t had time to think philosophy. Simply nutritional sciences and social analysis.”
Garrison Commander Groester spoke.
“Have you had time to think practicality?”
Tostler squinted his eyes.
“What do you mean by that, exactly?”
Groester stared dead at him, a severe expression on his face. Behind him, Garrison Commander Heimlutz closed his door.
“Do you know how close the Bickenstadt army is? Or the Waffenstadt army? And do you know how many men they have?”
Tostler shook his head and Groester continued.
“Well, I do know. He has more than us. A lot more. And they’re close. Very close. The Grand Imperial Army is getting pushed back constantly. We are losing.”
Tostler spoke before he could continue.
“I don’t like what you’re suggest-”
Heimlutz cut him off. He sounded almost as if he was pleading with Tostler.
“You have a wife and two daughters, Tostler. The last time this city was sieged, I lost both of my sons.”
He gestured to Groester.
“He lost his wife and son as well. We understand what it’s like to lose people, and we wish to spare you from that grief.”
Tostler’s hand hovered at his waist.
“So, you’re asking me to commit treason?”
“We’re asking you to think about your family. What has the Empire ever done for you?”
Tostler scowled.
“It put my oldest daughter through university is what it did. And it gave me a job that pays well.”
Heimlutz waved his hand dismissively.
“You could get that from the Baron as well. Materially speaking, nothing would change for you. All we need you to do-”
“All you need me to do is to betray my oath to the Empire.”
Monstahl smiled and slammed his book shut.
“Yes. For your family. And for the everyday people of Leibensburg. Avoiding a prolonged siege will minimize the lives lost. And you know that your ward would be the first to starve out.”
Tostler looked like he bit into something sour.
“...if this doesn’t work out, then all of us die.”
“I would say we are just as likely to die if we stay here and fight the inevitable.”
“Is that why you’re doing this? Because you don’t want to stand and fight?”
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Monstahl shook his head.
“No, I do it because I believe in his cause.”
He gestured to his colleagues.
“They just want to minimize bloodshed, but I believe that letting him in is righteous. I believe his mission is righteous, and his rule would be preferable to that of the Empress. They will make utilitarian arguments, I make moral ones.”
“So you expect me to betray my oath for the elves?”
“No, I expect you to do it for the people of the slums. They will only benefit from the Baron’s rule. His social programs speak for themselves.”
He got closer, putting a hand on Tostler’s shoulder.
“We could help them live long, dignified lives, my friend. And if they do that…”
He smiled brightly.
“Then your job will get easier as well!”
Tostler was silent for a moment.
“...and what if I say no?”
Monstahl shook his head.
“I don’t think you will.”
Tostler furrowed his brow.
“Just answer the question.”
Heimlutz spoke.
“Then we will have to kill you.”
“I suspected as much. And my family?”
“Oh of course not. We’re here trying to save your family, remember.”
Tostler was silent again, staring at his desk as he thought.
“...What…do I need to do?”
Monstahl smiled.
“At three am you are to open the gatehouse you control and allow the Liberation forces inside the city. You are also to keep everyone inside their houses, just so nothing unexpected happens.”
Tostler nodded, Monstahl continued.
“And, you will be expected to cooperate with them in full.”
Tostler gritted his teeth.
“Fine. But the Baron has to provide aid to the people of the slums immediately. We’re running dangerously low on food.”
Monstahl nodded.
“I’m sure the Baron wouldn’t mind. He seems all for that sort of thing, actually. Oh, also you and your men need to wear white headbands.”
Tostler closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
“Alright. I can’t guarantee that the men will be happy with it.”
Monstahl stook out his hand.
“That’s fine, so long as they follow orders.”
Tostler shook his hand.
“Well, my men are nothing if not disciplined.”
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March 17th, 1663. Three o’clock in the morning.
The Baron smiled as he saw the gates beginning to raise.
“Now the city falling is just a formality.”
He pointed at the city gates.
“Let’s get to it boys! If any of you so much as touch a civilian I will have you flayed alive!”
His men shouted to acknowledge him and began to flood into the city. They marched in columns as wide as the streets would allow.
The first men they ran into were wearing white headbands. They linked up and their leader gave the Baron an idea of where to go. He marched his men through the dark, dingy slums and into the lighter parts of the city. What little activity occurring amongst the civilians had fully halted, and everyone booked it inside as soon as they heard soldiers marching.
They turned a street, the front row rotating and the rest flowing behind them like a wave of bodies. They encountered a group of fifty or so guards and leveled their weapons. Before giving the order to fire, the Baron addressed them.
“Men! The city has fallen! Surrender and you shall live!”
The guards stared at the soldiers in shock before dropping their weapons.
“A wise choice!”
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The city of Leibensburg fell in less than an hour. Thousands of soldiers flooded the streets and marched right up to each garrison station, as well as the governor’s mansion and administration buildings.
The Baron sat in the governor’s mansion, across from the man himself in his office. The Baron was flanked on either side by armed guard, and the governor himself had two bayonets aimed at his back.
“So, governor, it seems your city has fallen.”
The governor was a small, older gentleman with thinning hair and a clean shaven face. He glowered at the Baron.
“Why? Why have you betrayed the Empire? For subhumans?”
The Baron smiled politely.
“For non-humans. And for humans of the lower classes.”
The Baron leaned forward in his seat, a smug look on his face, and tapped the front of the governor's shoulder.
“Not for men like us. Or men like you.”
“Men like me?”
The Baron nodded.
“Yes, slave owners. In fact, I am fighting this battle against men like you specifically.”
The governor looked shocked.
“So you really are doing this for some knife ears?”
The Baron glowered.
“For the elves. They deserve dignified lives.”
The governor scoffed.
“Dignified lives? The slaves of Leibenstadt have about as dignified lives as that race is able to achieve! They are able to reach their full capacity with Imperial guidance.”
The Baron rolled his eyes.
“Ah yes, the oh so beneficent guiding hand of the Imperial slave master. The hand guiding elven women straight onto the cocks of their slave masters. The hand eviscerating a slave for not making quota. The hand that owns them as property.”
“Onto the cocks-Baron! You scoundrel, accusing me of such a thing! I would never touch my laborers in a sensual manner, I am a professional!”
“Mhm, so you are a particularly kind slave master, you are above raping them, oh so excellent. I am fighting for the moral soul of the Empire. The rest of the world looks upon us as backwards savages because of men like you.”
“Baron this is a perfectly legitimate and traditionally enjoyed practice, and we are hardly the only people in the world to own slaves! I see no reason you have to kill Imperials just to free some subhumans and steal the property of fellow nobles and merchants!”
The Baron leaned back in his chair.
“Property. It’s all people like you think about. You don’t care about lives at all. You just want to make as much money as possible off the backs of people that you hate.”
The governor looked puzzled.
“Why wouldn’t I want to make as much money off of inferior beings? Is a farmer wrong to sell the milk of their cow?”
The Baron shook his head.
“They always go for the same fucking line. Cattle.”
The governor rolled his eyes.
“Sir, they are cattle.”
The Baron moved faster than anyone could react, his superhuman speed complimented by his inhuman precision and God blessed gift for combat. Before the governor could even process what was happening there was a gun barrel in his face, and the clicking of a trigger.
The men holding him at bayonet point flinched and were splattered with brains as a massive hole opened up in his skull. The governor fell back in his chair, rattling it as he slid down, leaving a trail of gore down the backrest.
The Baron holstered his pistol and stood. His men stared at him, eyes wide in surprise.
“Cattle. Calling people cattle. Cattle. Unbelievable.”
He turned to one of his guards.
“Do any of you have a length of rope?”
He nodded and retrieved some from his pack.
“Good.”
The Baron took the rope and opened the door to the balcony. They were on the top floor of the mansion overlooking the town square. He looked down and nodded.
“Does anyone else have a plank of wood”
His men pulled up a floorboard and handed it to the Baron.
“Find me a large spike.”
He moved to the governor’s desk and began to look through his drawers, smiling as soon as he found a bunch of inkwells and a large brush. He wrote ‘Slaver’ on the board in big, bold letters. Soon, one of his men came and handed him the head of a spear which had been broken off its shaft.
“Thank you Derek.”
The Baron took the sign and nail over to the governor’s body. He placed the plank across his chest and held the spear tip over the top middle portion.
“Someone drive this in.”
One of his men whacked it with his gun butt until the spear tip was lodged in the man’s chest, and the sign was firmly attached and stable. The Baron began to tie a hangman’s knot, throwing it around the governor’s neck as soon as he finished.
“Hang him off of the balcony. A message to the citizens of Leibensburg about how I feel about slavers.”
His men did as he asked, lowering him down and tying a knot to the railing. He swayed in the wind and dripped blood onto the stone below. The men outside cheered as they saw him hang, a sign of victory.
The Baron crossed his arms and smiled as he watched the men celebrating.
“We took Leibensburg in a single night. And there was but a single casualty.”
He chuckled and turned towards his guards.
“Honestly, even I’m surprised it went so smoothly.”
His men shared a polite chuckle with him before the Baron clapped his hands.
“Alright men! We have elves to liberate and send home! Let’s get to it!”
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A caravan was traveling across Bickenstadt, heading towards Leibenstadt.
It was a group of around one hundred and fifty destitute people, all ethnic Imperials, some carrying their goods by hand, others in the backs of their horse-drawn carts. One of their guards looked off in the distance and gripped his greatsword hard. A large procession of people were in front of them, a very rough and disorganized looking mob, with some more organized people behind them. They were all on foot, so the carts of their caravan were gaining on them quickly.
During a civil war many people resorted to banditry to make ends meet. It was very early in the war, but he wouldn’t be surprised if some enterprising criminals decided to ply their craft now that the military was elsewhere.
“Be careful everyone, these are uncertain times. Just keep cool and don’t make eye contact with anyone armed.”
The two groups got closer and closer until the mercenary could make out the colors of some armed men, orange and blue, the colors of Bickenstadt. The crowd of people parted to allow the carts to pass through, and everyone in the caravan got a good look at who was traveling with the soldiers.
They were a massive throng of former elven slaves being escorted by the Bickenstadt Liberation Forces. The mercenary was surprised by how they looked, namely, how bad they looked.
Many of the elves were covered in scars, their clothing ripped, ratty, and filthy. Their eyes held no hope, and their expressions were ones of fear. They all looked down at their feet as the caravan passed by, not daring to look up for fear of any sort of reprisal.
The people of the caravan couldn’t take their eyes off of the elves. They were so…destitute. Some of them were so skinny they reminded the older folks of the Black Hunger, bones visible through clinging flesh and rotted clothing.
The mercenary covered his nose as they passed by. The elves smelled like death, again a deadringer of the sights and smells of the Black Hunger. Complete deprivation. He had no idea that the elves had it so bad. He, along with nearly everyone else in the caravan, had lived their lives in provinces with no elven slavery. They were completely unused to dealing with the sight.
“Maybe…the Baron has a point.”
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March 24th, 1663. Leibenstadt.
A soldier was looking out into the mountain pass he was stationed in. Fort Kerlich was on the border with Caprae Loco along the only route from Caprae Loco directly into Leibenstadt. If they wanted to invade from any other direction, they would have to make their way through Waffenstadt.
A soldier in a watchtower leaned forward and brought his looking glass up to his eye. There was a single Brayherd wearing the head of a fox, a scout called Velites. The fifth in two weeks. According to the garrison commander, the Brayherds always sent the elite Velites corps ahead of anything they did, as they were world class scouts and skirmishers.
The Brayherd looked through his own telescope and locked eyes with the soldier. The Brayherd waved to him before turning and walking back down the path he came. The soldier’s eyes widened when another dozen or so Brayherds began to walk with him, appearing from behind the rocks and boulders that littered the path.
A dozen massive brayherds had gotten within a few hundred yards of him completely undetected. It seemed they were far better at their jobs than the soldier had thought.
Would I even notice if they tried to slip past?
He climbed down from his tower and ran to his garrison commander.
“Sir! I just spotted a dozen Velites in the valley! They appeared out of nowhere, and one of them waved at me!”
The commander pursed his lips in thought.
“That’s no good. Double the night watch, and send a runner to Frederick. They need to be prepared if the Brayherds are coming.”
The soldier saluted and began to leave before the commander stopped him.
“One last thing soldier, is the signal light stocked and ready?”
“Yes sir, the straw and wood are soaked through and the brasier nearby is always burning.”
The commander nodded.
“Good. Then tell everyone to prepare themselves. We may be fighting Brayherds soon enough.”