Chapter 1
May 18th, 1663. Leibenstadt.
The Baron grasped the hand of a young man laid out on a cot in much the same state he had been a few years ago. His right eye was gone, turned into red mist by a bullet from a skirmisher. The soldier was brought to a medical station, barely alive and sucking in quick, painful, shallow breaths. He was currently delirious, and quietly begging for his mother.
“You’re mother’s around here somewhere, son, but for now, you’ll have to make do with me. Don’t worry, I’m here for you.”
The Baron made a cross with his hands, going from forehead to sternum, then shoulder to shoulder before calling over the healing mage Luther Geidpfeld.
“Behold, I will bring to it health and healing, and I will heal them; and I will reveal to them an abundance of peace and truth. Jeremiah 33:6.”
The young man wearily blinked his single eye at the Baron.
“Wha-wh-what?”
The Baron smiled and gripped his hand tighter.
“A passage from the Holy Bible. The Lord watches over us, and he protects the faithful. All you need do is live righteously, as well as with an abundance of faith, and you will prosper.”
Geidpfeld touched his hand to the man’s eye, and soon the man’s wound was showered in a pale pink light.
“Baron, I don’t think this kid is Christian.”
The Baron smiled brightly.
“Almighty God loves us all, whether we believe or not. His love is unconditional. Man, woman, human, elf, believer, non-believer, he loves them all. He is the God of love, among other things.”
Geidpfeld scoffed as he began to mend shattered bone and stitch together broken blood vessels.
“Right, of course. How could I forget?”
Women ran around the tent, patching wounds, setting broken bones, and comforting dying men.
The Baron quietly prayed as he held the young man’s hand. He looked far more peaceful than before, and his breathing had begun to slow down. After spending time with the man, someone tapped the Baron’s shoulder, a messenger boy.
They gave a crisp salute before speaking.
“Sir, someone is here to meet you. An envoy from the Ottoman Empire.”
The Baron finished up his prayer and gently set the man’s hand on his chest before standing.
“Excellent, I’ll see them immediately.”
The Baron walked to a very large tent in the center of their camp, the command tent. Inside was a man wearing Ottoman mirror armor, chainmail connected to various different plates with a single large circular plate over the sternum. At his hip was a Yataghan in its sheath, and slung over his shoulder was a stunning miquelet musket covered in elaborate geometric patterns common in the Islamic world.
He was tall, with a medium length beard and a bald head. He bowed to the Baron before speaking.
“I am Eyman Küçük, commander of the Ottoman forces come to assist you.”
The Baron smiled and extended his hand. Eyman returned the smile and shook his hand.
“So, Eyman, how many men did Suleiman decide to send me?”
Küçük smiled brightly.
“Suleiman the Magnificent has decided to be generous! He is sending ten thousand Janissaries alongside fifteen thousand conscripts. They come with sixteen siege bombards and eight corps of siege engineers.”
The Baron’s eyes widened for a moment before he smiled and laughed raucously.
“The old man really wants my help after this, huh?”
Küçük nodded.
“Yes, very much so. We hope that you remember this generosity after you have finished with your civil war.”
The Baron grasped Küçük’s hand and shook it vigorously.
“And we will, I assure you. I am a man of my word. Now, I would like to talk logistics and communication.”
Küçük nodded.
“Of course. Suleiman is a rich man, he has commissioned two stones of great interest. Sending Stones.”
The Baron nearly drooled as the mention of Sending Stones. There were only six in the Empire, all controlled directly by the Reikspal royal family. They had the capacity to create more, but their construction was extremely expensive and there were only a few artisans in the Empire even capable of making them.
“And when will these stones be ready?”
Küçük smiled and retrieved a flat, rounded stone about the side of a fist humming with geometric runes glowing a soft white out of a pouch at his hip.
“They are ready now. I will have one on my person at all times, I suggest you do the same.”
The Baron took the stone and stared at it with pure wonder, gently running his fingers across the smooth, rune covered exterior. It was surprisingly warm to the touch, and a slight hum could be heard when he held it up to his ear.
“This is…wonderful. I have always wanted one for myself, but they’ve been monopolized by the Reikspal line.”
Küçük chuckled and he withdrew another stone from the same pouch.
“After this is all over, these stones will be a direct way to contact Suleiman the Magnificent!”
The Baron bowed his head solemnly to Küçük.
“I will not forget this, Küçük, and I will make sure that we all remember the assistance your people have provided.”
Küçük laughed heartily.
“Well, just remember that when you send merchant vessels down south!”
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May 20th, Bickenstadt.
A massive crowd filtered into a square in the center of Bickenstadt. They gathered around a large platform with a dozen men on it. Ten men in full plate armor with orange and blue plumes, one blonde man in multi-colored Puff and Slash, and an elf wearing tattered rags for clothing.
One of the knights drew white sigils in the air and the blonde man began to speak.
“People of Bickenstadt! It is I, Wolfgang von Bickenstadt! I am sure you are curious as to why I have called you here today! The reason is this: We are having our first Freedom Drive!”
The crowd murmured. They had no clue what that meant.
“Now, what exactly is a Freedom Drive? Essentially, we ask for the people of Bickenstadt to donate towards the war effort! This is fully voluntary, as there is no punishment for not participating, and no reward for donating. We wish for this to be a program purely for those who wish to contribute towards freedom!”
Wolfgang waved the elf over, and they stood nervously at his side. It was an elven woman, her body and face covered in scars and scratches, and her body was shaking. She timidly twiddled her fingers together and stared at her feet.
“This is Charlotte Babineaux, an elven slave in Grössenstadt! She was taken from the shores of her homeland nearly twenty years ago, and she has endured unconscionable suffering ever since, including rape by her masters, men who believe they are above her and see her as nothing other than an object! She arrived in Bickenstadt two days ago, having run from her masters to seek freedom here!”
He turned to the nervous looking elf.
“Charlotte, would you please show them your back?”
She slowly began to lower her shirt and turn around, showing off her torn up back. It was covered from top to bottom in disfiguring scars. Some of them were still relatively fresh, red, angry, and inflamed.
The crowd gasped as they looked at her destroyed back. When Wolfgang began to speak the elf pulled her shirt back over her shoulders and walked back to her place, never looking up from the ground. A knight put a hand on her shoulder to comfort her and she flinched heavily. The knight quietly apologized to her as Wolfgang spoke.
“When we fight against slavery, remember, THIS is what we are fighting against! The torture, mutilation, and rape of people just like you and me! How would you feel if this were your daughter? I, for one, could not stand it! I would be willing to do ANYTHING to see her home safe!”
The crowd roared in agreement. Wolfgang waited for the cheers to die down before continuing.
“We are sending her back home, with the cooperation of one of the elven nations to our west, La République Elfique! Her homeland, and our newfound friends and allies! They have seen the good we do, and they trust us to continue! Now, to help get these fine people back to their homes, we humbly ask for your assistance!”
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He paused briefly to take a breath.
“We have been cut off from Ebenenstadt, the breadbasket of the Empire, not a problem for the good people of Bickenstadt, but certainly an issue for the elves we are attempting to save! We do not ask that you starve yourselves for the good of others, all we ask is that those with excess donate what they feel they can!”
The crowd cheered and Wolfgang smiled brightly.
“We will have donation barrels at the front doors of the Bickenstadt City Assembly Building! As I have said, we encourage those with more than enough to provide for those who have nothing! That is the promise of Bickenstadt, afterall, to lift up the poor and downtrodden, and allow them to live dignified lives!”
The crowd cheered, shaking the earth with their revelry and revolutionary fervor. Wolfgang nodded and walked away from the air sigils. He put a hand on Charlotte's shoulder and smiled. She flinched again, and Wolfgang quietly retracted his hand, looking a bit embarrassed. He bowed his head to her, which elicited a gasp from some in the crowd.
“I am sincerely sorry, I imagine you don’t want to be touched by men after all you have experienced, do you? I will make sure to spread the word to my men.”
He took in a deep breath and stood tall.
“I thank you for doing this. I understand showing your scars must have been difficult. Do not worry, you will be on the next ship back home.”
Charlotte continued to look down at her feet. A tear hit the deck, then a few more. She looked up at Wolfgang, face red and nose running.
“Merci, monsieur Bickenstadt, Merci.”
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Wolfgang shook the hand of an elf wearing a Napoleonic officer uniform.
“A pleasure, as always, Adjudant-commandant Lavosier.”
Adjudant-commandant Lavosier nodded.
“The pleasure is all mine. Let us get right down to business, Napoleon is willing to offer troops, should you ‘ave something good to offer us.”
Wolfgang nodded and gestured for Lavosier to sit at a table. They were in Bickenstadt pirate village, right under the feet of one of the most prosperous cities in the world.
Their table overlooked the harbor, with Bickenstadt ships unloading cargo and Republicain ships loading former elven slaves. The job of the pirates as of late had mostly been assisting the Republicains as they brought former slaves back home, as well as raiding occasional merchant vessels bearing the Imperial flag so they didn’t get bored. Bored pirates were dangerous pirates.
“I think you will find that my offer quite enticing, personally.”
Lavosier raised an eyebrow.
“Oh? Do tell.”
Wolfgang smiled.
“I offer to waive tariffs on elven goods for four years if you would send twenty thousand men to assist in keeping the Empress on the other side of the river.”
Lavosier rubbed his chin in thought.
“Mmmm, that is quite the offer.”
“It is my Impression that twenty thousand is only a small percentage of your Grande Armée.”
Lavosier nodded.
“That is an accurate impression, yes. We have over one ‘undred thousand men and women serving with us currently. And we get more recruits every day.”
“Then Napoleon ought to jump at my offer. four years is a decent amount of time, at least on a human timescale.”
Lavosier crossed his arms and nodded.
“Oui, it is a very generous offer.”
“We in Bickenstadt pride ourselves on being generous. It helps our reputation.”
“True, true. Napoleon ‘as said that ‘e learned lessons from the other world. Satiating the masses is essential for running a government.”
Wolfgang smiled.
“Providing for your people makes them love you, and people will fight and die for those they love. The fact that it also empirically improves their lives is a just the cherry on top. It brings me joy to help others. Seeing their happy faces when I walk the streets is almost as valuable as the Reiksgeld they bring in taxes.”
Wolfgang grinned.
“Almost.”
Lavosier chuckled.
“I will take your offer. Twenty thousand men will come to assist you in freeing our people, and spreading the ideals of the revolution.”
Lavosier extended his hand and Wolfgang shook it vigorously.
“I truly appreciate this. But don’t think it means your merchants will not pay taxes. We have a sale’s tax now.”
Lavosier whistled.
“My, you really are going to wring every single Reál for this war effort.”
Wolfgang shrugged.
“Our people can afford it. We’ve made sure of that.”
Wolfgang’s face was bursting with pride, his smile wide and genuine.
“I do all the calculations myself.”
Lavosier nodded.
“Impressive. Napoleon also prides ‘imself on handling logistical matters personally. It makes my job far easier.”
Wolfgang chuckled.
“My father says the same thing about me.”
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May 19th, 1663. Fort Kauber, Holenstadt.
Krysia Badeni stood with her arms crossed looking out at the mountain pass in front of her. She watched a handful of Imperial skirmishers come out of the forest and fire shots at them. She didn’t even hear the bullets impact around her, as they were too far away to hit anything with smoothbore muskets.
She sighed and spoke absentmindedly.
“I am bored…the Imperials are not giving me anything interesting.”
A young, high pitched voice came from her side.
“Isn’t that a good thing, ma’am?”
Krysia snickered.
“Hm, I suppose that is true. It means less dead Bszerci. But it also means restless soldiers. And restless soldiers do stupid things.”
The boy nodded his head, satisfied with the answer.
“That makes sense. Do we have anything big planned for the future?”
Krysia smiled and shook her head.
“No, just more skirmishing and ambushes. We are about even right now numbers-wise, soon we will have more. Hopefully our increased presence will tip the scales, maybe even draw reinforcements from the river front.”
“Well, shouldn’t we try something big? To make sure those reinforcements come?”
Krysia smiled and tousled the boy’s hair.
“We do not want to overextend. We are being very safe for the time being, waiting until the Baron finishes up down south. When his forces start to push into Grössenstadt, we will as well.”
Krysia sighed.
“But until then, just more skirmishing. And massacres. The fighting has gotten far more hellish than I had expected.”
The boy tilted his head.
“Really?”
Krysia nodded.
“Yes, very much so. I did not expect the Imperials to hate us so much, and I did not expect so many Bszerci to try and side with the Empire. We have had extremists on both sides killing off entire families in the Dunkwald because of difference in opinion. I do think it is necessary, though. We must be rid of traitors at all costs.”
The boy nodded his head solemnly.
“I suppose that makes sense. We have to kill a few Bszerci to save the rest of us, yeah, makes sense.”
Krysia smiled and tousled the boy’s hair again.
“You’re going to make an excellent commander one day, I can tell.”
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May 20th, 1663. Grössenburg.
The Empress sat atop a massive war horse which was decked out fully in elaborate enchanted armor with purple and black cloth accentuating its golden etchings. She herself wore plate armor, minus a helmet. She wore a black tabard with a Demigryph drawn in purple, the symbol of the Reikspal line during wartime.
Around her were knights dressed in the same fashion as her, on similarly elaborately armored warhorses. Their purple tassels flittered in the wind as they rode in a perfect square around the Empress. They had straight sabers drawn and resting against their shoulders, as well as rifled carbines in holsters on their saddles.
They rode through the streets of Grössenburg at the head of a column of soldiers, all wearing the black and purple gambesons of the Grand Imperial Army, marching in unison with muskets shouldered and bayonets attached. Drummers played cadences and the onlookers cheered as the Grand Imperial Army marched through their beloved city to the massive stage down near the docks, the busiest part of the city.
The Empress directed the column around the stage, fully surrounding it with thousands upon thousands of soldiers. She and her knights dismounted and walked up the stairs to the stage. One of her knights drew sigils in the air and the Empress gestured for the crowd’s cheers to cease.
“Men and women of the Empire! I am your Empress! The protector of your families, and leader of your glorious nation! We have been attacked by lunatics! Men and women so corrupted by outside influences that consider the elf more important than you and I!”
The crowd jeered loudly, and the Empress waited for them to finish before continuing.
“This shall not stand! On this day I swear to you that the Bickenstadters will be driven from the shores of Die Grösser Teilanderfluss, then beyond!”
The crowd roared in approval.
“We will take the fight to Bickenstadt! We will annihilate the traitors! And bring glory to your fallen sons and daughters! I will personally lead the Grand Imperial Army across the river, and I will return to you the riches accumulated by the cowardly race traitors that rightfully belong to those who remain loyal to their nation! To their race!”
The crowd’s cheers reached a fever pitch as they praised their empress’s courage and clamored for glory and riches. They chanted the name of her line, the royal family who leads their nation into glory.
The Empress drank up the approval from the audience and smiled. The people near the front of the crowd immediately began to quiet as they stared at the Empress, fully enchanted by her ethereal, supernaturally enhanced beauty.
“And leading the charge are the protectors of the Empire! The Demigryph Legion!”
She sucked in a large breath and shouted as loud as she could, hurting the ears of everyone in the square, even causing a few of them to flinch and shy away or cover their ears.
“COMPANY! HALT!”
After a few seconds the beating a massive wings could be heard from above. The audience looked up and gasped audibly. They marveled as sixty massive beasts, at least twice the size of the largest draft-horse, half-lion half-eagle, wearing armor humming with powerful enchantments on their beaked heads and massive talons descended from the sky.
Riding on top of them were knights in full plate, great plumes of purple feathers flowing in the wind as they hurtled towards the earth below. In one hand were the reigns of their gargantuan steeds, the other massive glaives, every inch of the blade vibrating with multicolored enchantments from every school of magic.
They landed at the front of the column, cracking stone and brick beneath as their massive bodies smashed into the ground. They stood tall and all let loose a screech at once, filling every person of every race in the city with a sense of pure, unfiltered terror. The Empress smiled as the crowd marveled in fear and terror at the massive flying beasts in front of them.
“Now, we march! Towards Bickenstadt! Towards victory!”
The crowd roared as she and her knights remounted and lead the column out of the square, and slowly out of the city itself. Nearly eighty thousand men were on their way to take what was rightfully theirs, and to drive these race traitors out of their lands.
The Northern Division of the Grand Imperial Army had fully martialled their forces, and they were about to bring all of their fury down upon those southerns who had killed their friends and family.
For there was only one response to treason: Steel, and shot.