Chapter 13
Three months after Klarwasser's arrival and the two first meetings the Baron attended, in the month of December, year 1659, things were progressing smoothly. Holenstadt had vast stores of building material in warehouses upriver, and transporting them was a fairly painless process as the various rivers and canals were intact and efficiently laid out. The invaders neglected to touch the materials because it was mostly just wood and stone, nothing of value to your average soldier.
The Baron skimmed a report on his desk. He had moved into the governor’s mansion, as it had been cleaned up and rebuilt. The inside was as lavish as they could afford to make it without causing the citizens to riot. He didn't particularly want to decorate the room with expensive furnative and paintings, but whoever was in charge of the rennovations neglected to ask him.
“Ok...the roads are mostly fixed up...about 60% of perminant housing has been restored...the food situation has been fixed...the citizen police force are functioning mostly properly…the number of new bureaucrats and city planners is within acceptable margins…I think I may be able to leave the rest to the locals.”
The Baron muttered to himself as he looked through his paperwork, which had become smaller on average than when he first arrived. For the most part, all of the work that absolutely required his management was finished.
It would have gone faster with elven slave labor, but I won’t allow that. Having my memory and personality merge with a modern person’s has substantially strengthened my abolitionist sympathies.
The Baron stood up from his desk and stretched, walking over to the cabinet and strapping on his gear. As he walked out of his office he flagged down an attendant.
“Tell the governor I am out doing police work. If he complains, tell him I'm the baron of this province and I can do what I want.”
The Baron left the confused attendant and headed to the police station they had built. He walked in and was greeted by Brusilov wearing his gear as well.
“I had a feeling you would come here, Baron. Your work is progressing smoothly and you do not have much to do personally. Come, we will patrol Holensburg together. Usually police squads are four people, but I assume us two will be fine.”
Brusilov and the Baron walked the streets of Holensburg together, on top of their gear they wore a poncho like cloth that displayed the coat of arms of Holensburg, signaling that they were police. Their goal while patrolling was not necessarily to stop crime, their job was to look intimidating so criminals were less likely to commit crimes, as well as mediating disputes and capturing criminals when they did commit crimes.
During their shift they were called upon to help mediate a dispute, two local butchers had gotten into a fist fight over stall placement.
“That Szczur is trying to steal away all my business!”
Wailed a mountain of a man wearing a butcher’s apron. The sides of his head were shaved and he had a shaved head and long drooping mustache, a historic and popular hairstyle in Holensburg.
“This Barbaric Untermensch believes he should have MY spot!”
Countered a similarly sized man, also wearing an apron. He was balding and had a cauliflower ear.
“Calling names, eh? It works better when I can understand what you’re saying, głupek!”
“Same goes to you, Rattengesicht Arschloch!”
“Otóż to!”
The men both squared up and began to swing at each other. Brusilov and the Baron just stared at each other.
“So...are you going to intervene?”
The Baron gestured weakly at the brawl unfolding in front of them.
“Be my guest.”
“No, no, I insist.”
The Baron flashed a smile at his companion.
“Brusilov, I do not feel like dying today.”
Brusilov smiled as well.
“Nor do I.”
Brusilov and the Baron had watched the two burly men fight for just a few seconds when Brusilov suddenly looked off into the distance.
“I just heard something that needs to be taken care of, stay here and talk to them when they calm down.”
He sprinted off in the direction he was looking before the Baron could say anything. The Baron sighed and squatted down, quietly watching the two men brawl. It looked like two bulls crashing into each other, and probably generated about as much force as the real thing. The two men were perfectly matched, they traded punch for punch, block for block, headbutt for headbutt. The Baron watched them fight for about one minute and thirty seconds.
Finally, they both pulled back and released a devastating haymaker at the same time, both of them hitting the other’s jaw with the force of a freight train. Both of them stumbled for a moment and fell backwards, crashing into their respective stalls. The Baron looked up and found that someone had taken the spot while they were arguing over, a petite woman who sold fish. The Baron gave her a headnod in congratulation and left to find Brusilov.
In the distance the Baron heard some yelling and came to check on what was happening. He could see Brusilov stalking around the entrance of an alley, silently peeking around the corner. The Baron was about to quietly walk over to ask him what’s up when Brusilov pulled out his kilij and a small black ball.
This should be interesting, Thought Brusilov as he stalked after the men he heard.
While he was deciding how to deal with the angry butchers, he had heard the telltale accent of an elf off in the distance. It was faint, but he definitely heard a Frenchman arguing loudly with some locals. Holenstadters tend towards discrimination when it comes to the elves, something about the pompous attitude and pretentious language of the elves really got under their skin.
Brusilov quietly stalked after them, watching the group of men grab the elf and drag him into a nearby alley. Brusilov silently walked over to the mouth of the alley and looked in. There were five men beating the elf, pushing him around before throwing him to the ground and kicking him over and over again. Brusilov noticed that they were all wearing armor and carrying swords, most likely men of the Soldiers Guild, who he was currently feuding with. Brusilov knew where this was going, he has seen it many times before.
Just this once, I’ll intervene. I’ve shed enough elven blood. The Baron will probably want to meet an elf anyways, might as well give him this one.
Brusilov drew his kilij and grabbed a small black egg out of a pouch at his side, quietly crushing it in the palm of his hand using the pommel of his sword. He focused on his appearance and his head began to fizzle, quickly changing his face into one which resembled a Holenstadter, his hair seeming to vibrate out of existence, being replaced with the hairstyle that Polish giant had.
Brusilov rushed into the alley and slashed the back of one of the soldier’s legs, kicking him in the head as he fell to his knees and crushing the man’s skull against the wall with a sickening crunch. The two closest men turned around to look at him and found black dust in their eyes, a massive stream of fine black particles crashing against their faces like waves against cliff face.
He stepped forward and slashed one of the soldier’s hands off at the wrist, shoving him into the other blinded man and knocking both of them over. Brusilov drew his pistol and fired at the fallen men. Brusilov’s large caliber, rifled pistol managed to easily punched through both of the men’s skulls and imbed itself into the dirt beneath them.
Brusilov brought his pistol up and he spun around to block a chop aimed for his back, the saber biting deep into the gun’s wooden grip. As the soldier tried to pull his blade out of the wooden handle, Brusilov stabbed through the gap in the man’s armor at the waist, feeling his lower spine come apart.
The last man swiped at Brusilov, forcing him to abandon his blade in the man’s waist, drop his pistol, and throw himself backwards, the tip tracing a thin, shallow trail of gore across Brusilov’s cheek. Brusilov landed hard on his back, then rolled over himself and immediately fell into a new fighting stance. He had drawn a hidden blade, holding the knife at waist level and his off hand extended out in front of him.
His knife was unique to him, something that he brought with him when he reincarnated. The handle was made of blackened steel, with rings of knurled steel up and down the length of the handle. Sticking out of the almost nonexistent guard was a small bright red knob, which his opponent eyed nervously. The darkened blade was double sided, thin, and long, ending in an incredible fine point. The two men began to slowly circle each other, daring the other to make the first move.
“Brusilov?! What the hell are you doing!?”
The Baron shouted at the mouth of the alley, which was now to the side of them. The last man looked over at the Baron and Brusilov grinned darkly. His opponent began to look back, and Brusilov tilted his knife upwards.
With a small click the blade of Brusilov’s knife shot out and embedded itself in the throat of the distracted man. He stumbled back and tried to get a grip on the blade, though the blood made the smooth cylinder very hard to hold onto. After a few seconds, he pulled the blade out, causing a torrent of blood to spray through the air. The man looked between the knife and Brusilov for a few seconds. He tried to take a step forwards, but his legs wouldn't cooperate, dropping completely out from under him and sending him careening into his dead comrades.
Brusilov shifted himself back to normal before retrieving the knifeblade his opponent threw when he fell. He turned around just in time to see the Baron’s fist coming at him, connecting with his face and knocking him to the ground. He landed hard, the impact driving the air out of his lungs and sending mud and dirt flying all around. When he tried to stand back up he found a boot flying at his chest, pinning him to the ground, and the very angry face of the Baron.
“Brusilov! What the...what the fuck?! What the fuck?! What in God's name are you doing?! Those were Badeni men!”
Brusilov raised his arms in surrender before gesturing to the elf still in the alley, curled up into a ball with their back facing the two men.
“They were going to kill the elf.”
The Baron furrowed his brown and glanced over at the elf, visibly shaking as they tried to make themself as small as possible. After staring at them for a few seconds, he pushed harder on Brusilov's chest, eliciting a low grunt from him. The Baron removed his boot and roughly grasped Brusilov's arm, almost sending him flying through the air with how hard he pulled him to his feet.
“You still didn’t have to kill them!”
Brusilov steadied himself and wiped the blood from his nose before returning his knife blade to its handle. He took a second to catch his breath and walked over to his kilij, still imbedded firmly in the soldier's waist. As he grabbed the hilt of his sword he finally began to justify himself to the Baron, grunting with effort as he pulled on his trapped sword.
“They were part of the Soldier’s Guild, they would not have listened to me just because I am a policeman, and most of them hate me specifically so I doubt they would listen to anything I would say. If I did not move in when I did they would have killed that elf. Armed men are known to act poor-”
Brusilov was struggling to dislodge his kilij from the man’s spine, pulling hard and losing his grip, sending himself flying back.
"Aк! Сукин сын! fucking sword!
“Elf?”
The Baron looked over at the elf.
“You’re an elf?”
Brusilov rolled his eyes at the Baron, because he clearly did not listen to his earlier explanation. The elf stood, bracing himself against the wall and grunting with effort as he forced himself to his feet. He was wearing a brown overcoat and a brown furred Shtreimel, currently a trendy article of clothing in Holenstadt. He nodded his head and removed his hat, revealing his long ears and short blond hair.
“Oui, Monsieur.”
He had a French accent and a medium pitched voice. The Baron pointed at Brusilov angrily.
“I will deal with you later. Make sure this doesn’t become an incident, Ruski. If I receive anything from the Soldiers Guild or Badeni family I will send you back to Grossenstadt in a box! But, for now, Herr Elf, I would very much like to speak to you. Come, let’s get you fixed up and in a clean set of clothes.”
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After getting back to the mansion and getting him set up with a bath and new clothes, the Baron sat down to speak with the elf.
“I am the baron of this province, as well as Bickenstadt. Everyone simply refers to me as Baron. Tell me, what is your name and how is good your Reikers?”
The Elf took a sip of the wine provided to him and made a face like it was too sour, swiftly putting on a neutral expression before speaking.
“My name is Jean Le Mécanique. I am fluent in Reikers.”
The Baron chuckled at his reaction to the wine, leaning back and setting his right ankle on his left knee.
“So, tell me Jean, what are you doing here? Our two nations are at war currently.”
“You are not at war with all elves, you are only at war with La République Elfique, so I decided to pretend to be from one of the other countries and travel the Empire.”
“And yet you were almost murdered in an alley for being an elf.”
Jean rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.
“Oui, I did no' see that coming. I knew there was some prejudice against elves, but I did not realize it was so bad. And I did not know the systemique aspects of it. I tried to find work but I found only that elves are not allowed to take publique service positions. I was truly shocked by ‘ow much men of the Empire ‘ated elves.”
The Baron shrugged his shoulders.
“Well, do elves not feel the same, or at least similarly, about humans? We have been at war for some time now, for some reason or another, and the Empire is really not known for its racial equality.”
Jean narrowed his eyes and curled his lip in disgust as he shook his head.
“I would say, non. I can not speak for La Sécession Royale or La Volonté de Dieu Manifestée, but La République Elfique was founded on the simple principles of Liberté, Égalité, and Fraternité! We would never stoop to such unfounded bigotry! Many of us Républicains do ‘ate you, Oui, but we ‘ate Empiresmen, not all humains!”
Is he perhaps very young? That is quite a naive perspective.
The Baron raised his hands placatingly.
“Calm down son, I was not making a prescriptive statement, nor a judgement. I was simply asking a question. Our Empress is a bigot, that I can say for certain. She hates the elves, and so do many powerful people within the Empire, and they try to indoctrinate young Imperials into their bigoted way of thinking. Your folk are not welcome here unless they are slaves, and so I assumed your people would allow the same thought processes to take hold of their hearts as well. People tend to respond to hate with hate, that does not change whether you are a human or an elf.”
Jean took a sip of his wine to calm himself and resumed speaking.
“We ‘ave been taught to not make wild assumptions like that. I learned during my education about how destructive essentialism could be. My father was killed by an Imperial raiding partie, I could easily make a snap judgment in anger, to dismiss all humains as backwards, murderous savages. And yet, such judgements would be quite rash, there are plenty of good people out there. You, for instance, ‘ave taken me in, and your friend saved me from a brutal death, non? Républicains, at least those of us who ‘ave completed our publique education, try to see the world in shades of gray when applicable.”
“Fascinating, you will have to inform me of what ideas you have encountered during your education sometime. I would be more than happy to learn what you know, and teach you what I know. But for now, I ask you to answer my previous question, what brings you to the Empire?”
Jean took out a booklet and handed it to the Baron. It was filled with notes written in cursive and diagrams of various buildings and machinery, with notes about how different architectural styles differed in the Empire and where they likely originated.
My, he even traveled to the Assai’id and Caprae Loco. This young man has been busy.
“I am ‘ere to research the mechaniques and architecture of the Empire, and to generally travel the world and learn as much as I can. We are gearing up to finish off Le Sécession Royale once and for all, I think, and Le Grand Général wishes to find knowledge from around the world that could aid the war effort.”
Jean took another sip of his wine, again wincing as if it were sour candy. The Baron tried to stifle a laugh.
“Is our wine not to your liking?”
Jean shook his head frantically.
“Mais non! It's fine! I’m just used to wine with lower alcohol percentage is all!”
The Baron smiled brightly.
“Mhmm, sure. That is a local Holenstadter wine, universally regarded as, well, not their finest creation. They have better alcoholic beveragely, namely vodka, so no need to pretend to enjoy it. Anyways, your name, specifically your last name, Mécanique...Mechanic. What’s that about? Is that just nominative determinism, or perhaps some sort of title?”
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
“Nomina…oh, um, the latter! When you graduate from L'académie de Mécanique, you get referred to as ‘La Mécanique’, my real last name is Dubois, but I do not use that for much except marriage and official government documents. If you need to find a specific Mécanique, you do just have to use their last name."
“So what exactly is a Mécanique? Do you work with machines or something?”
“Oh, I uh, believe the term in Reikers is...engineer? Yes, we do engineer work, from architecture to machining, we do a lot of things. If you are a Mécanique then you are given good jobs with solid pay. We are the backbone of industrialized society! We keep everything running, fixing infrastructure and setting up manufacturing.”
“Interesting, then that would mean you are an expert in the subject? You look rather young for an academic smart enough to be sent on a military mission.”
“Oh, my mission is not specifically for military gain. I do no' work for the government, I come ‘ere on my own, stowed away on a merchant vessel sailing for the Assai’id. It’s just if I don’t bring something useful ‘ome I will never forgive myself!”
“Strange. And how long have you been traveling?”
“For about five years now, I believe.”
“Five years? How old are you?”
“125 years of age this year.”
The Baron searched his eyes for any sign of sarcasm, then smacked his forehead.
“Right! You’re an elf. You live a long time.”
“Well, by elven standards I am still quite young. Elven years do no translate properly into humain years, but I would be roughly...20 years of age were I humain. I am the youngest graduate of l'académie de Mécanique in ‘istory, though it ‘as only been around for 350 years.”
“You seem to be quite learned, and you definitely have encountered ideas that we have yet to. Say, Jean, how would you like to work for me? I believe you would be an extremely useful asset.”
Jean looked excited for a moment and began to answer before stopping himself, his face falling and his eyes sheepishly pointed to the ground.
“I would love to work for you, but...are you allowed to ‘ire me? Your Empress ‘as banned elves from ‘olding offices, no?”
The Baron smiled brightly and waved his hand dismissively.
“There is nothing she can do about a humble mercenary company like mine hiring someone for a specialist role. That rule only applies to public office and public servants, people whose salaries are paid by the state. You salary will be paid by me from my personal funds.”
Jean itched his head in thought.
“But you are a Baron of two provinces. Is the source of your wealth not revenue from running your domain?”
The Baron shrugged his shoulders and stood.
“Eh, semantics. Quite frankly I do not care what the Empress thinks anymore. I wish to work with an elf, and so work I shall! You may have knowledge we do not, you may know techniques that would be very useful to us.”
The Baron grabbed a nearby bottle of brandy and began to pour himself a drink.
Holenstadter wine is disgusting! They should really just focus entirely on producing vodka and beer.
“The Empress finds you people disgusting. I find you interesting, the same way I find my fellow man interesting. I like to broaden my horizons by learning from everyone I can. A diversity of perspectives and skillsets is the backbone of an effective fighting force! Besides, the most the Empress can do at the moment is shake her fist at me. And shake she will, I assure you. I will take you on as the head of my Engineer corps, and you will help us get stronger, maybe even have you give a guest lecture at our universities. I have already made sure the men know at least the basics of engineering, enough to build a proper camp and make simple fortifications. I wish for you to turn them into proper engineers.”
The Baron sipped his drink and smiled. Much better.
“If we teach my men to build as well as destroy our services will be sought after desperately. And if we use an elf to do so, well, it may destigmatize them and improve how society at large views them. It’s a win-win as far as I’m concerned.”
Jean rubbed his chin in thought.
“I accept your proposal, Baron, do you ‘ave any work that I can ‘elp with?”
“Excellent. And yes, I do. I want you to go and find three of my Lieutenants, Hans Freier, Ludwin Albrecht, and Fergus Ulpagahn. They are currently the heads of the construction effort, everything passes through them. I will provide you with clothes that show your affiliation, though unfortunately I cannot create anything in the elven style, so Imperial fashion will have to do, will that be a problem for you?”
“No problem, I will start immediately.”
As Jean began to stand the Baron grabbed his shoulder and gently forced him back in his chair.
“Actually, not immediately. Sorry. We need to wait for more building material to arrive before we can do anything, get some rest while we create your clothes, and tomorrow you will look around the town with a security detail. Find things you think could be improved and report back to Helmut. I also want you to assist in the construction any way you can. We are not going to be here for too much longer, but while we are here I still wish to work as hard as we can.Oh, also, make sure to build everything you can in the local Holensburger style, they are quite touchy about that sort of thing.”
Jean smiled brightly and visibly tried to contain his joy.
“Alright then, that sounds good. Am I going to be staying in this mansion?”
“Yes, I’ll tell the servants to prepare a room for you, tomorrow we will introduce you to everyone, and after that you can begin your assignment.”
“That sounds good Baron, I promise I will not disappoint!”
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The next day, after getting Jean his new clothes, the Baron called his lieutenants together to meet their new comrade. Jean dressed in popular Imperial fashion, the floofy and flamboyant clothes of a landsknecht.
“To be 'onest Baron, I am not so sure about these clothes.”
The Baron laughed loudly.
“I am sure they are far more flamboyant than you are used to, but you will simply have to deal for the time being, it is the easiest way to identify you as one of my men.”
“Still, it is so...poofy! And why are there two sets of shirts to wear?”
Jean stuck his hand through a hole in the top layer. The Baron patted his own shirt and smiled.
“Well, the top layer has holes in it that form an interesting pattern, and the bottom layer is used to make the design pop by using complimentary colors.”
Jean sighed, eyes down on the ground.
“No, I get that. I just wish it was...less.”
The Baron patted his lightly padded shoulder.
“We will get you a simple three piece suit when we return to Bickenstadt. But for now you, well, you can just wear the undershirt if you want.”
“My problem is with these poofy sleeves!”
He waved his arms around for emphasis. The Baron rolled his eyes as he grabbed Jean’s shoulders and began to steer him towards the door.
“Fine then, rip them off or something, maybe have Fergus do it when you get the chance. He is quite strong and generally friendly. Speaking of which, it is time to introduce yourself.”
They walked into the reception hall where they found the lieutenants, minus Hans who was still working with the caravans, lazing around a restored great table that the previous baron used for feasts. The Baron cleared his throat to get everyone’s attention.
“Everyone, this is your new comrade in arms! His name is Jean la Mechanic, and he will be heading up my engineering corps! Oh, he’s an elf by the way.”
The Baron gave his most shit eating smile grin.
“I’m sure you all won’t mind too much!”
He pushed Jean in front of him as he spoke. Jean nervously fell into attention, legs together and arms at his side standing straight up.
“Eh...-e-’ello! I am Jean Le Mécanique! Monsieur Bickenstadt and ‘is friend saved me from some ‘olenstadter knights yesterday, and in ‘is infinite kindness decided to bring me into 'is services. I ‘ope our work together bears fruit!”
Everyone stared at Jean for a moment and then looked at each other. Fergus got up and started making his way to Jean. Jean was about a head taler than Fergus, but under his gaze he looked like a field mouse comparing itself to an elephant.
As Fergus got closer Jean began to shrink away, the air in the room grew tenser and tenser as he drew closer and closer. Finally Fergus was right on him, bringing his arms out wide. Jean was getting ready to run when Fergus sprang into action, trapping Jean in a giant bear hug.
“Any friend o’ tha Baron is a friend o’ me! Welcome ta tha team, Jean!”
Everyone breathed a sigh of relief, they knew that Fergus wasn’t the type to attack someone at random, but he was quite the loose cannon, so they could never be sure. Udo walked over and slapped Fergus in the back of the head.
“Fergus, look what you've done! You scared the kid half to death!”
Fergus looked at Jean and gave him a quick peck on the cheek.
“Sorry ‘bout that!”
He let Jean go and pointed at himself with his thumb.
“Aye’m Fergus Ulpagahn! A Berzerkeri and one a’ tha Baron’s Lieutenants! ‘Sa pleasure ta work with ya!”
Udo patted Jeans shoulder and introduced himself with a blindingly bright smile.
“Yo! I’m Udo Fudopfiegler, also a Lieutenant. I’ll try an’ be nice to you, but I make no promises! I’m sure the Baron hired you for a reason, so I bet workin’ with you’s gonna be fun!”
Helmut bowed as he introduced himself, his expression, as usual, completely unreadable.
“My name is Helmut, son of Waffenstadt and one of the Baron’s Lieutenants.”
Helmut extended his hand forward, trying to shake hands with his new colleague. Jean looked at his extended hand with anxiety and tepedation. He had almost been killed the day before because he shook the hand of a racist soldier who became violent after he discovered Jean's race.
Jean stilled looked at Helmut's hand with an incredulous look on his face. Helmut waited a few seconds longer before he scratched the back of his head and returned to his seat. The Baron stepped forward and spoke to Jean.
“By the way, there are two other man you will be meeting, Hans Volkner and Ludwin Albrecht. They are currently riding with the caravans and should be back somewhat soon. Anyways, go on, take a seat and I’ll inform you all of what we will do from here.”
Jean did as instructed as the Baron unfurled a map on the table. He took a fancy pen left behind by the previous mayor and dipped it in red ink, circling the south side of town.
“We have made great progress in the past three months, but south Holensburg is still in complete disarray. The walls have yet to be fully repaired and much of that side of town is still living in temporary housing. After we rebuild that side of town and confirm that Holensburg can be left on its own, we will leave for Bickenstadt and rest.”
The lieutenants all murmured in approval. The Baron continued.
“The men will have three months leave, and after that they will be on standby until our services are needed again. During those three months you will be permitted to go wherever you wish, your travel will be subsidized, but only the travel.”
The Baron stood up straight and smiled.
“What I am saying essentially is that when we wrap up construction and peacekeeping in Holensburg, we will go on vacation. I hope that is enough motivation for you to work as hard as you can.”
Everyone smiled and nodded their heads. The Baron continued.
“However, we can’t do the work we need to get done until the caravans are back, so for now, I want you to plan what needs to be done. I wish for all of you to work together, Jean will most likely have knowledge that we do not, and vice versa, so I wish for you to teach each other as much as you can, when you can. Your current orders are to go to south Holensburg and survey what still needs to be done. After that you will draw up plans on what you want to do and consult with the ruling families to make sure your work is satisfactory and up to regulation. Am I understood?”
“Yes Sir!”
“Good, then get on it.”
Everyone stood up and started to leave when the Baron raised his voice again.
“Additionally, if any of you treat Jean poorly just because he is an elf, you’ll be shot. Clear?”
“Yes Sir!”
Everyone saluted, the Lieutenants in the Imperial fashion, a fist over their heart and their other arm behind their back, and Jean, a few seconds later, in the Elven fashion, hand straight and to the edge of the eye socket, palm facing down.
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Ludwin had arrived far earlier than anyone was expecting. His merchant connections meant that he could easily find people selling goods in bulk and at decent prices in the area, all he had to do was arrive at a post office and start asking around. In addition to that, the Empress had decided to provide subsidies for food aid heading to Holensburg, as an apology for allowing her mercenaries to destroy the city, so Ludwin was able to get food fairly easily. He had very briefly met Jean when he arrived, which went fairly well. Since he was a well traveled merchant's son, he had interacted with free elves before, so their introduction was positive. However, he had been fairly busy and they had not had enough time to properly meet. So, when Jean and Fergus were taking his survey of southern Holensburg, he decided to tag along.
The south side of Holensburg was still in disrepair. The roads were beginning to get smoothed out, the bridges rebuilt, and the most important buildings rebuilt or patched, but it was still mostly ruins, and much of the starving populace was currently stuck in extremely cramped temporary housing. Jean was writing in his notebook as the group watched, muttering to himself in Elven as he wrote. Jean was suddenly knocked out of his stupor by Fergus trying to get a look at his notebook. He sighed and lowered it to Fergus’s level.
“Vaos biist þu shrreeben auber? Es ist allle inn Ailfisch.”
Jean had no idea what that meant. His accent was extremely thick, and he was pretty sure Fergus was slipping some Orkney words in there as well. Jean’s grasp on Reikers was fairly strong, or at least he liked to believe it was, but he had no idea how the others understood Fergus.
“I ‘ave no idea what you are saying, sorry.”
Fergus looked annoyed and tapped Ludwin’s shoulder, pointing at Jean as he spoke.
“Airr verrstaeht meer nicht.”
Ludwin chuckled slightly and looked at Jean apologetically.
“You’ll come to understand him with time. We all got it eventually. Speaking of accents, yours is quite easy to understand, though it is still fairly thick, sorry to say.”
“Oh! Merci! As long as I am intelligible I am ‘appy! I ‘ave been practicing very ‘ard during my travels. So, what did our comerade from Orkney say to me?”
“He wanted to know what you were writing. He can't read elven”
“Oh, but of course.”
Jean pointed to what he was writing and began to read it out in Reikers to Fergus, making sure to enunciate every syllable as clearly as he could.
“The roofs are slanted at a much sharper angle than ours are, most likely to counteract the hhhheavy snowfall Hhhholenstadt gets every year.”
He still had trouble producing the sound of ‘H’ naturally, but he could do it if he needed to. Fergus smiled and said something incomprehensible to Jean, which Ludwin happily ‘translated’ back to Jean.
“He said that it reminds him of when he first came to the Empire, he was surprised that none of the houses close to the river were on stilts.”
Jean’s eyes began to sparkle and he flipped to a new page.
“You put ‘ouses on stilts near rivers? Fascinating! Is it because the weather in Orkney is more extreme? Because it floods far more and far more violently? And tell me, what shape are your roofs? Do they need to be sharply angled so the rain does not collect and collapse it? Similar to what these people do to protect themselves from snow?! And what kind of building materials do you-”
Ludwin gently pushed his booklet into his chest, smiling the most disarming smile he could manage
“There will be time for this later, but for now, we are on assignment”
Jean quietly flipped his notebook back to the page he was originally on.
“Oui, Pardon. You are right. I will focus on this task before bothering Fergus.”
They continued to walk around southern Holenstadt, logging what needed to be done and sketching plans of what they were going to build. Jean walked over to a man who’s stall had roof tiles piled on it and asked him a question.
“Excuse me, sir! What do you use to create shingles? Is it clay or wood?”
“Co? Przepraszam, nie mówię po Reikers.”
Jean smiled awkwardly and turn to his colleagues.
“Excuse me? Do any of you speak Bszerci?”
They all shook their heads no, causing Jean to let out a huff of air.
“‘ow do you not speak Reikers? You live in the Empire. Is that sort of thing not required by law?”
The smith said something that Jean again didn’t understand and went back to his work. Jean sighed disheartedly and drew a sad face at the end of the line he had written.
“This is going to be ‘arder than I was ‘oping...”
|
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About four days after they surveyed south Holesnburg, Hans had finally arrived back at the city. After cataloging everything that they had brought back and consulting the estimates that Jean made, they could finally get to work restoring Holensburg to its former glory. But during the construction, Hans had some grievances to bring to the Baron.
The Baron was sitting in his office, reading over reports on the construction. He was very pleased with how things were proceeding. If they kept up the pace they would finish early spring, maybe mid summer at the latest. He wanted to hurry back to Bickenstadt as quickly as he could, from what he remembered the weather there was beautiful no matter what time of year, unlike the hellish winter that was currently upon them.
As he was desperately trying to distract himself from his paperwork, Hans barged into the study in a huff. The Baron threw his pen down onto his desk a little too eagerly and greeted Hans.
“Hans! Good to see you back! How did you find thi-”
Hans cut him off, speaking quickly and aggressively.
“Why have you hired a gods damned elf?!”
“...”
The Baron, the most unflappable man in the Empire, couldn't think of a response. He had been flapped.
“Um...can you… can you say that again, Hans?”
Hans moved closer.
“He is an elf! An enemy of the Empire! The only condition in which one of them should be allowed here is as laborers through the Messerohrhandel!”
The Baron was stunned. Did he seriously just say that?
“He…is...not from the nation we are at war with.”
The Baron knew it was not true, but that line should get him out of any legal trouble at least, so it was the story he would tell everyone who asks.
“The elves are the enemy of the Empire, and therefore of mankind! And you not only allow one to walk our lands freely, you hired it to work a position that should be taken up by an intelligent Imperial citzen!”
The Baron stood up from his desk, his face instantly turning into a severe glower.
“It? Did you seriously just refer to Jean as 'It'?”
The Baron took a step towards Hans, towering over him and summoning his best superior officer voice. The first part came out much louder than he originally inteded, however, that was fine by him. He was very angry.
“You forget yourself! You not only question the decision of a superior officer, THE superior officer, you question the personhood of someone I have recognized as useful? I know that I tend to disregard rank and social class when it comes to you and my soldiers, but you forget yourself! Do you seriously believe you are superior to him? I am the Baron von Bickenstadt and Holenstadt. A couple of generations ago you wouldn’t have been important enough to have a last name. Do not allow yourself to believe you are better than anyone else, because you’re not. No one is inherently, not even me. That's something that you have to work for, and it is certainly something you will NOT become if you continue to believe such childish nonsense.”
Hans began to speak, but the Baron cut him off.
"I have talked to him extensively over the past two weeks. Jean’s background is fairly similar to yours. He was born to a poor family who couldn’t afford to send him to school. He only got to the place he has by working and studying extremely diligently! I appreciate your skills, they are undeniable, and I value your opinion as a comrade in arms, but this company will function just fine without you. I understand that racism is popular in the Empire, but I am the most progressive man in mainstream Imperial politics. I will not allow it in my company. So either learn to work with Jean la Mécanique, or leave. The choice is yours.”
Hans opened his mouth to speak again, and the Baron cut him off again.
“I have given you everything you needed to become the talented young man I knew you could become. I paid for your education, gave you a steady, well paying job, and took care of your family when they needed it. You owe everything to me, and ALL I ask of you is that you treat others with the respect they deserve. If you can't bring yourself to interact amicably with an elf, then you should take your nonsense back to Grössenburg to join the Empress and her hive of vidictive bigoted nepotism-babies. And before you give an answer, just keep in mind, I gave you everything, and therefore the corollary is true as well.”
After waiting a moment in case the Baron wanted to continue, Hans opened his mouth, then closed it.
“...”
Hans balled his fist and averted his eyes from the Baron. He clenched his jaw and squeaked out an apology through gritted teeth. The Baron sat back down at his desk and took up his pen, starting back in on the paperwork in front of him.
“You’re dismissed. This will not happen again, and this is not up for discussion. I am sure this ridiculous outburst was simply caused by how tired you are from your journey, even on the roads traveling through the Dunkwald is an ordeal. Go get some rest. Introspect about what has taken place today, and choose to come back better. Tomorrow, you will be assisting with the construction. The faster we get done here the faster we can head home.”
Hans stood in place, too shocked to really do anything. The Baron continued his paperwork, though did not make any progress. After an eternity of stillness, he sighed and attempted to substantially soften the tone of his voice.
“Listen, I care about you, Hans, and I should not have yelled at you the way I did. However that kind of racism is unacceptable to me. Tomorrow we will put this all behind us. But today, I want you out of my sight. I am far more disappointed in you than I am angry, though I should not have talked down to you."
The Baron bowed his head in apology.
"That was immature of me, I apologize for acting out of anger, you did not deserve that kind of classist vitriol. All I ask is that you treat a fellow sapient being with the respect they deserve. Now, please, leave.”
Hans performed a very quick salute and left through the still open door. The Baron set down his pen, leaned back in his chair and ran his hand through his hair. He sighed as he fiddled with the ring on his finger and thought.
He didn’t like threatening Hans’s livelihood like that, it felt dirty. Beneath him. And while many noblemen enjoyed talking down to the lower classes, he very much did not. But, if Hans's bigotry, his vitriolic hate of the elves, was going to be a problem, then he couldn’t hesitate to be rid of him.
His plans for the future involved making peace with the Elves and opening up trade with them, as well as abolishing elven slavery throughout all Imperial lands. But if people like that were common in the Empire it could…complicate things. He put his head down on his stack of papers and sighed.
“I want to go home...”