Chapter 4
The Baron was walking down the long, open corridors of the Rauchburg Palace Forge. For the most part, he was trying to get an idea of how defensible this was, if it came to that.
He ducked into a small cranny in the wall, seemingly put there for a drawer or something of similar size but devoid of any sort of furniture. He could fit his entire body inside the nook with absolutely nothing poking out. He nodded his head and stepped out.
Long sightlines, good and abundant cover, this would work very well for defense.
A male servant walked over to the Baron. He was of medium height and build, and he was wearing a classic black butler uniform, dress pants. Tailcoat, white bowtie, and white dress shirt.
Are we really going to abandon the puff and slash? It’s so good!
The butler spoke as he bowed deeply.
“Excuse me, sir, could you spare a moment?”
The Baron smiled brightly.
“Oh of course! What do you need?”
“I need to speak with you privately.”
The Baron raised an eyebrow?
“Oh? What’s the occasion?”
The butler glanced around the empty hallway.
“Information that you absolutely need to hear.”
The Baron crossed his arm across his chest and bit his thumbnail as he considered what to do. After a few seconds, he nodded his head.
“Sure, lead the way.”
The Baron followed them into a smaller side room. Suddenly, the man’s voice changed, deeper, and vaguely Russian.
“Baron, it’s me. Brusilov. The Empress has announced that she is ending the Reikification of Holenstadt. She said that she wants to incorporate the Holenstadters to the national mythology, just as their own culture instead of a forced Imperial mix.”
The Baron took a deep breath and closed his eyes in thought.
“That is…troubling. Hopefully, the Holenstadters are just too angry at the Empire to accept this as fine, to forgive and forget. Many of them that I have met seem to base some of their cultural identity on not being the Empire.”
Brusilov nodded.
“Agreed. I think it’s likely, however, things are going to get much more contentious. I predict that Holenstadt will turn into a complete shitshow, much like your American Civil War. She may have even done this on purpose.”
The Baron took a few seconds to gather his thoughts.
“There’s no world in which the ruling class of Holensburg will suddenly side with the Empress. I think Wolfgang’s plan is still secure, just messier. We are just going to have to be more careful in the future. Perhaps handle things with a more delicate touch.”
Brusilov nodded.
“Agreed. Now seems like the time to start ingratiating yourself more to Imperials at large, and especially Holenstadt. Your food network is good, but it’s shared with the Empress. You should consider doing something more.”
“...Universal education for Bickenstadters? Like a k-12 program, though maybe shorter unfortunately. That sort of thing would be huge. Wait, I should do that anyway. A democracy only operates properly when people are educated.”
“Yes yes, whatever you do just make sure to get people on your side. Have you begun propaganda in Holenstadt?”
The Baron shook his head, eliciting a grunt from Brusilov.
“You need to get on that. None of this will work unless you make them agree with you.”
“Well, I am stuck here in Waffenstadt for the moment. At least a couple of days more. Do you think that you can inform my son of this? Just to get the ball rolling.”
Brusilov’s voice turned back to his butler persona.
“Yes, will do sir. Now, I really must get going. I have a lot to attend to. Good day, Herr Baron von Bickenstadt.”
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“Eh, how does Ingo treat us? I mean, probably ‘bout as well as anyone like ‘im would.”
The Baron nodded and took a sip of his ale. He was currently in a small bar in Rauchburg, carousing with the working class of Rauchburg. He built time into his schedule for just this thing. He felt it was important, as it gave him an idea of how people were doing, what they were thinking, and how best to win them over to his side.
“I see, and does that mean good? I hear his welfare isn’t quite as good as Bickenstadt’s, but it’s certainly not nothing.”
“Oh yeah, I’d say ‘es good. My friend Fritz got ‘is ‘and mangled in a machine right proper, now ‘e don’t gotta go to work no more.”
“That’s good. Is there anything you would say he could be doing better?”
“Well, I mean, yeah, but I’m just tryina drink brother.”
The Baron smiled and set down a bag of Reiksgeld on the counter.
“Fair enough, then let us drink, brother. Bartender! A round of ales for everyone!”
The bar erupted in cheers and drinking songs.
“Ein Prosit, ein Prosit, Der Gemütlichkeit, Ein Prosit, ein Prosit, Der Gemütlichkeit!”
Everyone slammed their steins together.
“Prost! Prost! Prost!”
The Baron was greatly enjoying the revelry. It felt very similar to camp nights with his men, the atmosphere of machismo and smell of body odor reminded him of his best nights out on campaign, the after battle celebrations. The Baron lifted his stein in the air.
“I would like to propose a toast! A toast to the working man! The people who keep our wonderful country running!”
The Baron gestured to the man he was talking to earlier.
“And a toast to his friend Fritz, who got his hand mangled and now doesn’t have to work! Prost!”
The room erupted in laughter and yells of Prost! As men and women cheered and drank. The Baron sat back down and started up conversation with a different man next to him.
“Hello, friend. What’s your name and what do you do for a living?”
The man took a large gulp of his ale before answering.
“Oh, I’m Erik, and I work in the mines.”
The Baron nodded.
“Ahh, hard yet essential work. The forges around here would be beautiful mechanical display pieces without your efforts. Tell me, is there anything you miners want that you’re not getting?”
Erik thought for a moment before drinking more ale.
“Well, we’d like more stuff to drink, and longer breaks. It gets hot and dry in there, we ain’t got enough water or beer.”
The Baron slapped the man’s back.
“Well then, I’ll see what I can do for you boys. To be completely open, I am a baron. The Baron von Bickenstadt and Holenstadt.”
The miner froze.
“Wait… for real?”
“Yeah, though honestly most of the work falls to my son. I am first and foremost a warrior and a diplomat, as well as a drinker!”
The Baron laughed and downed the rest of his ale.
“This is good stuff, man. Here, buy yourself some more, I have to go. Quite a busy schedule. Keep an eye out for more water and beer!”
The Baron set a small pile of Reiksgeld in front of Erik, enough for at least thirty more drinks, before standing up and leaving. Erik watched as the Baron walked out the door, completely baffled by what had just happened.
“The Baron von Bickenstadt? Like…for real? Guys!”
He raised his voice to get the attention of those around him.
“Guys! Guys! The Baron von Bickenstadt promised me more water and beer down in the mines!”
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It was March 10th, 1661, and the Baron was at another noble’s breakfast.
He was picking at his food slowly, his appetite dulled by the prospect of having to deal with more nobles. He was glad he was only going to be in Waffenstadt for a few more days. He was, unsurprisingly, surrounded by nothing but noblemen. This meal was restricted by class only, even very rich merchants couldn’t attend.
One of the nobles surrounding him spoke, one Lord Voglen, a mid level nobleman. He was younger, in his mid twenties, and was just on the cusp of graduating from the University of Rauchburg.
“Baron, I want to say, I very much respect your commitment to the cause of ending Elven slavery. I have become convinced by your ideas, and I want you to know, I will throw my moderate weight behind you in politics, for however much that means to you.”
The rest of the nobles surrounding him voiced their agreement. The Baron couldn’t help but look shocked, but very quickly recovered and smiled brightly.
“Well, I am glad to hear that from you all, it means a lot. I am more than grateful for your support, it is men like you that drive politics! Young, well educated noblemen are always welcome in a coalition! But, to be honest, all I truly care about is changing minds. Seeing even a single person agree with me, let alone be convinced by my arguments on the elven question and anything else, I will have accomplished my God given goal.”
Lord Engelt, another middle level nobleman, raised an eyebrow.
“God given goal? Yes, I have heard that you legalized Christianity in your provinces, I did think that quite peculiar. If you would be so kind as to indulge me for a moment, may I ask, have you converted? And if so, why?”
The Baron smiled genuinely.
“Well, that is quite the question. Are you sure you want me to answer this? We could be here all day.”
Engelt nodded, as did those surrounding them.
“Well, yes, I have converted. Did so decades ago while I was wandering the wilds of the Assai’id, trying to find purpose in life after my Sabine was tragically murdered. I was, frankly, exhausted and dying of thirst as I crossed the great desert mountains of the Dominica region of the Férnando Empire.”
The Baron paused.
“There was a sandstorm, and I could barely see twenty feet in front of me. Just when I was about to give up, just about to curl into a ball and accept my fate, I saw something emerging out of the great cloud of sand, massive horn pointed up at the sky ready to drop on me with the force of the grumbling of the mountains, something which I learned to fear during my time in the Assai’id.”
The Baron paused again, for dramatic timing.
“So I drew my sword, thinking it was some kind of monster and intending to slay it so I could drink its blood to sustain myself.”
The Baron chuckled to himself. Everyone around was engrossed in the story.
“Ah, I miss those days. Anyway, I approached the monster, and instead found a giant cross, the symbol of Christ. I was very delirious, you see, not thinking right. The monster ended up being a small friary. The Dominican friars there took me in and nursed me back to health. I ended up staying for six months, well after I was healthy enough to travel again. I spoke with them, and learned of their holy book, the Bible.”
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The Baron paused to sip his wine, a delightful red wine sourced from the personal collection of the Baron von Weinstadt.
“They were very compelling and interesting men to talk with, and they were the first folks I truly talked to in length that were not noblemen. During this time, I can’t quite explain it, but I had an enlightening moment, as they like to call it. I saw a vision from Almighty God, of what my purpose in the world was, and of Sabine, waiting for me in Heaven above. To be honest, this was quite convincing to me, it made me believe in the Divine above, and so I asked the Dominican friars to teach me their ways.”
The Baron paused to eat a crunchy potato covered in gravy and chives, a dish originating in the establishment they were currently in, the restaurant Neue Höhen.
“They showed me their passages, taught me to think and interpret them for myself, and eventually taught me that all men are created equal under God, and that there was nothing inherently special about the nobility. There was a passage I found which struck a chord with me in particular, Sirach 34:21-22: The bread of the needy is the life of the poor; whoever deprives them of it is a man of blood. To take away a neighbor’s living is to murder him; to deprive an employee of his wages is to shed blood.”
The Baron paused to allow them to absorb the passage, just in case it struck a chord with any of them as well.
“Well, that is why I am Christian. God is a god of love, love for his creation no matter the flaw. It is a Christian’s duty to love others, even if they are sinners. He is also the God of forgiveness, for he sent his only son to die for us, so that we may cleanse our sins and live our lives as righteously as we can. It is for that reason that I believe, and I have converted. He gave me a purpose, the purpose to help others, and I try to do as such when I can.”
The nobles around the table were all contemplating his words quietly.
Oh no, am I going to make Christianity trendy amongst nobles?
The Baron sipped his wine.
“Also, Christianity allows for the consumption of alcohol, unlike Islam, it’s brother religion. Just so you all know, it is true, the Jews, the Christians, and the Muslims, the followers of Islam, all worship the same God. We simply disagree on who is a prophet, who is the prophet, and if Jesus Christ is the son of God.”
One of the female nobles spoke up, one Lady Erika, wife of a highly affluent Waffenstadt nobleman named Lord Faber.
“Where could we find a bible if we wished to take a look?”
The Baron smiled but waved his hand dismissively.
“Oh, nowhere here, only in Bickenstadt and Holenstadt currently. Also, there is a caveat I must make you all aware of. The Almighty requires that you have no God other than him. You must worship him exclusively, though of course you should pay respect to others when you can.”
“So, you do not worship the Imperial Cult? Have you made Christianity Bickenstadt’s official religion?”
“No, I have not. The people worship the Imperial Cult, and they are the ones who decide such things. I just allow Christianity to exist within my influence. I will not push it on anyone. Faith is an intensely personal thing, I would break the heart of the Divine if I harmed good people in his name, and I would have to spend centuries atoning for it.”.
Another woman, Lady Elena of the prestigious Federen line spoke up.
“You say the people decide the official religion of Bickenstadt, this is democracy, correct? Rule by the masses?”
The Baron smiled.
“I prefer to describe it as rule by the people who have a stake in society. I could vote if I wished to, and it would have just as much power as a beggar off the streets. All people are created equal, and so everyone should have a say in the systems that govern them.”
“Have there been any problems with the lack of education amongst commoners?”
The Baron shrugged.
“Not that I can tell. However, if there is a problem with that, the only solution would be to educate them, is it not? That is why I am so intelligent, after all, because of the education gifted to me upon birth. If they had such an education, they would be just as intelligent.”
The Baron paused to breathe.
“In fact, I have been considering doing just that. Universal education for Bickenstadters up to sixteen years of age. An educated population is an efficient one, and our factories are starting to require more and more expertise. Dumb people make dumb choices, so it stands to reason we should simply turn dumb people into smart people and they will make good choices. That is what I have done in my mercenary company, and it is going swimmingly. My men are the finest in the world, imagine a whole society of fine men and women! We could accomplish much.”
The Baron sipped his wine.
“Like ending Elven slavery. Imagine how much life experience and wisdom an elf could have if allowed to live freely and given an education? They would be incredible Imperials, and quite beneficial to the state as well.”
Another nobleman spoke up, one Lord Enders.
“But, can you teach elves such complex ideas? I hea-”
The Baron cut him off.
“You hear wrong. I have living proof of it. One of the men working with me is an elf who found his way to Holenstadt as he traveled the world to learn, and he is incharge of Bickenstadt’s incredible infrastructure. He is one of the most intelligent young men I have ever met, and he is one hundred and twenty years old so that certainly makes sense. Imagine how good an engineer could get with hundreds of years of experience?”
Some of the nobles were shocked by what the Baron had said. The Empress and her father have been disseminating propaganda for decades, so Imperial Race Theory has rooted itself deep in many places across the Empire.
“But sir, haven’t you seen the latest research into brain capacity of the elven race? It was quite conclusive, which is that their brains can only store so much information before it begins to slow, resulting in dull wits.”
The Baron wasn’t able to entirely hide the displeasure on his face.
“Please. I am an academic, I know the research. It is my opinion that the research done is and has always been deeply unserious. How can you come to conclusions for an entire racial group when the only specimen you have access to are literal slaves? I apologize if I come off combative here, it’s just something that I picked up over the years, I do not mean to criticize you. Just the research in which you speak.”
The Baron finished off his wine and set down the glass hard on the table.
“Now, enough of this dreary conversation, though I admit I enjoyed it quite a bit, we are only starting our days! Let us speak of more light hearted topics, have any of you heard that Leibenstadt is going to be throwing a cultural festival? If you can afford it, you should definitely attend! The Leibenstadters have some good art, and some great ideas.”
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March 14th, 1661. Ludwin and Fergus were in Leibenstadt, around one hundred and fifty miles away from the capital city of Leibensburg. They were in the great grasslands of Leibenstadt, with the massive Sicherheit Mountain Range which separated the Empire from the southlands looming over them at all times. It brought comfort to Ludwin, he had lived his life in and around mountains so having nothing but wide open space tended to freak him out.
Even from miles away they were a beauty to behold, with their snow capped peaks and their spots of green, orange, and yellow vegetation growing occasionally around them. The plains themselves were made up of a beige grass, with single yellow cottonwood trees and green oaks dotting the landscape, alongside red fragrant sumac and other flora like prairie grasses.
Fergus gave Ludwin a look which told him there were people nearby, though Ludwin himself couldn’t really tell. They just kept riding in the direction of the mountains, sitting in a tense silence. Suddenly, Fergus spotted movement in the tall grass.
He turned to face his foe and found a bayonet less than an inch away from his face. The gun itself looked very strange, like a barrel connected to a pole shaft. It resembled the Handgonne of old, just a hollow tube attached to a stick, but it had a full firing mechanism with a trigger at the bottom, as well as a sword-length bayonet built directly into the barrel.
He looked at the source, a similarly mounted person in the tall grass. Fergus had no clue how they got a horseman so close without him noticing, which could potentially be a good thing, depending on how things go.
The man was wearing long stalks of grass attached to his clothing and his face was covered in beige face paint, allowing him to blend in with the grass easily, were he not on a horse.
His armor was similarly painted, as were his clothes, a traditional puff and slash with grass stalks attached. On his head he wore a light brown furry cap with grass attached all over. He looked like a bush walking in a vague approximation of a man. A man who was pointing a gun in Fergus’s face.
He spoke, his voice deep, low, and growly.
“What are you doing here? You’re the Baron’s pet from Orkney, right?”
Fergus frowned and Ludwin answered.
“We both work with the baron von Bickenstadt, yes. We wish to speak to your leader.”
The man’s eyes wandered to the sky as he considered what to do.
“What do you have to say to him?”
Ludwin turned his horse in the direction of the man and flashed his finest merchant smile.
“We are here on behalf of the baron von Bickenstadt himself, actually, on business which should not be discussed out in the open.”
The man considered Ludwin’s words for a few seconds before raising his strange gun and resting it over his shoulder.
“Come with me.”
His eyes glowed in a very different way than Ludwin had ever seen before. One eye was blue and red flowing through each other, the other yellow with cracks of white lines. Suddenly, the air around them began to shimmer.
“No one can see us now, I appear as grass and you are below me.”
He gestured for them to follow him and turned his horse around. Fergus noted with great interest that the grass barely moved even as his massive horse walked through it, almost seeming to perfectly hug their legs, or even pass through at times.
The trio walked for around a mile before he gestured for them to stop.
“Wait here.”
As he rode forward his form slowly began to morph into stalks of grass before all they could see around them was the swaying of prairie grasses and trees in the wind. Ludwin shot Fergus a nervous look, so he rode over and tenderly caressed Ludwin’s cheek.
“Don’t worry, I’ll always be ‘ere. No one gonna be able to ambush ‘n kill ya while I’m around.”
Fergus looked all around, still seeing zero signs of life.
“And, if they were gonna kill us, they woulda tried already. You saw ‘ow close that man got.”
Ludwin nodded.
“I know, I know, I’m just nervous.”
After around twenty minutes of waiting, the grass parted in front of them, and the man again materialized slowly in front of them.
“Come.”
The group rode on for another mile before a village came into view, grass stalks sticking up from every roof. The settlement was built down about a foot into the ground, and it took up a very large area, which shocked Ludwin and Fergus. There were at least three hundred houses, each one camouflaged with various native plants.
People were working, cutting down stalks of wheat or washing clothes, various different labors that were essential for maintaining a society. There was even an area where warriors were being trained, spear drills on hay dummies and riding drills in wide open circular arenas.
Fergus and Ludwin stared at the settlement in open awe as they were guided to the stables. The two dismounted and were led to a large yet simple building. There, they found a giant beer hall with a throne in the center.
A man sat up straight upon said throne, looking rough and tumble yet regal at the same time. He wore the traditional puff and slash of the Empire with the muted colors which the great plains produced, but he wore a square brown bison-fur cap on his head, somewhat similar to that of the Holenstadters.
Ludwin and Fergus both kneeled, and the Häuptman spoke.
“What business do the representatives of the Baron have with Die Anarchische Volksregierung?”
Ludwin took a deep breath before speaking.
“The Baron has been informed that you people are displeased with Imperial rule. He wishes to know why that is, and if there was anything he could do to ameliorate your issues.”
The Häuptman looked baffled.
“He knows very well why we chafe under Imperial rule. They impose their laws and taxes on us, we are free spirits. We do not live within Imperial society, so we do not wish to contribute to Imperial society.”
“But you do participate in Imperial society. The Anarchic Band are known to be peerless trackers and skirmishers, without your help, Leibenstadt would still be under rebel control.”
The Häuptman narrowed his eyes at Ludwin, looking very displeased.
“Do not lump us in with those Schleimscheißer, we did not assist the Empress during her reconquest of Leibenstadt.”
“Yet you did not take up arms against her.”
“We decided that the prince’s revolt would fail so we did not involve ourselves. And we were correct to do so.”
Ludwin smiled.
“So, what you are saying is that should a movement arise that does have a chance to beat the Empress…”
Ludwin glanced at Fergus, who gave him a mischievous smile.
“Then you’d wanna fight ‘em. That makes sense, no sense in throwing your weight behind a doomed venture. The Baron had similar calculus goin’ on.”
The Häuptman raised an eyebrow.
“Are you saying that the Baron considered raising the flag of rebellion?”
Ludwin waved his hand dismissively.
“Oh, no, he never really considered it. It was clear that the prince was going to fail from day one.”
“And is that the only reason he sided with the Empress?”
Ludwin nodded.
“Yes, that is the only reason. He figured that it would only cause pain and suffering with nothing gained.”
The Häuptman nodded.
“And he was right.”
Ludwin nodded as well.
“And he was right. The Empress ended up taking Leibenstadt and owning it herself. Such a shame, I imagine she is treating you folks well, yes?”
“No.”
Ludwin chuckled slightly.
“Yes, I imagined so. Tell me, what would you like for Leibenstadt? Would you rather that the people decided what happened here instead of some unaccountable nobleman a thousand miles away?”
The Häuptman crossed his arms.
“What exactly are you asking me? I assure you, no Imperial dogs will be found in this camp.”
Ludwin grinned.
“I see, not one for word games. Have you been paying attention to the Baron’s actions as of late? You called Fergus his ‘pet’, so I imagine you know a moderate amount.”
The Häuptman nodded. Ludwin continued.
“Well, he is going around the world and touring the Empire for a reason. He is looking for allies.”
The Häuptman leaned forward in his chair expectantly.
“And what are these allies for?”
“Well, for liberation, of course. Liberation of the elves and other non-humans, alongside a liberation of the common folk from the aristocracy.”
The Häuptman leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms.
“Yes, words are all well and good, but why would a nobleman decide to abolish himself?”
“Honestly, I am not sure either. Maybe it has to do with his faith. However, I can assure you that he is genuine. He has largely given control of Bickenstadt city to the people, allowing them to control the city via a people’s council. I believe that your people do something similar?”
“Yes, at least any of us worth a damn. Many people do not actually care about liberation, they care about power and skipping out on taxes. Those people, I do not respect. However, the Baron has been a historic progressive, and his democracy seems to be working well. Tell me, what does he want of us?”
“Simply for your assistance in liberating Leibenstadt, and more depending on how things go. He requires not that you swear fealty to him, but to the Liberation of the common man.”
The Häuptman smiled.
“What a fascinating man. Tell me, does he plan to send you to each and every settlement to ascertain their allegiance?”
Ludwin chuckled and hung his head briefly.
“Yes, he does. Do you perhaps have any better suggestions? I would very much like to leave by the end of the week.”