Chapter 19
About three weeks after their plan to open relations with the Brayherds, on the 21st of May, year 1660, the Baron and his entourage arrived at the outskirts of Caprae Loco. They were still a couple of miles away, but the flat planes that Caprae Loco was built on allowed for excellent visibility, enabling them to see it’s impressive walls from a distance. Even from the distance they were from it, the walls looked both imposing and beautiful.
The beige, multilayered walls of Caprae Loco looked similar to those of Bickenstadt, though theirs has carvings of past brayherd leaders and famous battles carved directly into them and painted. Bickenstadt has massive murals of the ocean and other scenes symbolically important to Bickenstadt, but it had no carvings or depictions of battles.
The watch towers, built directly into the walls themselves, were carved into caricatures of a Brayherd soldier in armor, their full bodies sculpted all the way from their hooves to their horns, their armor and weaponry carved with extreme care and precision. Their eyes seemed to follow you wherever you went, even with the great distance between them.
The rest of the walls were sturdily built and perfectly straight across with strong looking merlons placed periodically across the walks of the wall. They gave a sense of both opulent wastefulness and utilitarian usefulness, like some noble’s vanity project mixed with a citadel purpose built to survive a siege. From what the Baron had read about Brayherds, that feeling perfectly describes the general demeanor of that race, opulent, yet hardy.
“Man, that looks really cool!”
Udo stared at the wall in naked awe. The Baron looked far more incredulous.
“Well, it’s certainly...different from our walls, that's for sure. less imposing as Grossenburg’s, but probably about as strong.”
Fergus squinted as he stared off in the distance. He looked fairly conflicted.
“I cannae say whether I like it or not. Donnae like those eye’s lookin’ at me, that’s for sure!”
“I do believe that is the point, to unease your enemies, similar to the reason our walls are generally all black or gray, with the exception of Bickenstadt. Well, like it or not, that is where we will be staying for the next week and a half.”
Udo quickly spurred his horse into a gallop, whooping in excitement as he sped past everyone.
“Let’s go see the cool stuff they have!”
The Baron quickly chased after him.
“Don’t rush too quickly at them! They might shoot you! Slow down you damned ape!”
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The Baron’s precession spent just another 30 minutes making their way to the walls, where they were met by a brayherd wearing a toga flanked by an honor guard of eight fully armed brayherd soldiers wearing roman style kit, red segmented chest plate with a red leather skirt and cape, as well as immaculately polished steel Galea complete with large red horse hair plumes.
Instead of shields and gladius each of the seven and a half foot tall soldiers carried a strange looking weapon whose name he couldn’t quite place. It had the handle length of a zweihänder with the blade length of a longsword. The blade itself was single sided, curved slightly, and decently thick, with the tip curving back and down towards the blade before ending in a sharp point.
The weapon felt distinctly un-Roman to the Baron, more like an oversized cane knife, but that was neither here nor there. The Brayherd in the toga stepped forward and raised his arms in greeting, palms facing up in a pose similar to a prophet giving a sermon. As he stepped towards the Baron, he spoke, his voice was deep, though not as deep as one would expect given his size.
“Welcome, envoys of Imperium Hominis! I hope you enjoy the amenities we can offer you, here in the greatest city in Exculta Mundi!”
His accent sounded very strange to the Baron. Like Italian with less bounciness to it.
He tried to glean as much information about his personality from his voice as he could, though it was fairly difficult because he knew basically nothing about them. The brayherd's voice was haughty and smooth, far smoother than the Baron expected following the low rumble before he spoke.
The Baron assumed that this brayherd was some sort of noble. Not only did he carry himself with the air of superiority one would expect from a noble, but he was sent here to make a first impression for their new guest, meaning he would have to be at least somewhat important.
“We thank you for hosting us. I am the Baron von Bickenstadt and this is my entourage. As I am sure my son made clear in his correspondence with your senate, we are here on behalf of Bickenstadt, not the Empire.”
The Brayherd smiled, or at least the Baron thought he was smiling, and his throat began rumbling.
“Of course, Baronis de Bickenstadt. We would never allow such a thing for our Legati, but things have always been done differently outside de ovili pecus popularum.”
The Baron’s couldn’t quite stop his face from twitching at that. He wasn’t sure if that was supposed to be an overt insult or not, it seemed a little early for that kind of thing after all, but it was still quite annoying to be condescended to. The Baron tried to make sure his displeasure didn’t cross his face any further as he responded.
“Well, such is the way of things, I suppose. We Empiresmen were always a little different from everyone else. I look forward to learning how your systems operate in comparison to ours.”
The Brayherd smiled again and began to speak.
“And we, yours. I am senator Flavius Sabatius Julii and I will be your guide for today. These are my Honoris Custodes, Rufus Custodibus. They will be accompanying us throughout our tour. May I ask you to identify your Honor Guard?”
The Baron took a moment to consider his words, scruffing his beard in thought before pointing out Udo and Fergus.
“I have no honor guard in the traditional sense, but these two men are my lieutenants. The blonde one is Udo Fudopfiegler, and the red haired one is Fergus Ulpaghain. I pride myself on not requiring an honor guard, it projects a certain strength of will and martial prowess not to have one.”
He was making that up for the most part, he didn’t have an honor guard but he wasn’t quite sure why the Baron neglected to have one. But he could return a subtle dig at the brayherd by implying having an honor guard makes him look weak. However, if it bothered him he didn’t let it show.
“Quite the interesting train of thought! And one that would suggest you are quite the strong fighter, perhaps you would like a tour of our coliseum soon? And perhaps a chance to compete?”
The Baron nodded his head.
“That would be lovely. In the meantime I ask you to allow us to tour your great city. Additionally, do you have people to escort our baggage train to our lodging?”
Flavius waved his arm at the gate and a dark skinned human man hurried over. He was wearing a shortened toga, the cloth only flowing down just above his knees.
“This is my famulorus Thabo, hailing from some tribe in the Assai’id confederation to our south, across the Magna Divide. Thabo, where exactly do you hail from again?”
The man frowned and quickly responded “Swala’ardi.” before running off to guide the baggage train to the Baron’s lodging.
The Baron frowned slightly at this. Though they weren’t chattel slaves or anything, he still didn’t like the idea of indentured servants. Slavery is slavery, regardless of what the people involved personally thought about it.
“Baronis, you seem displeased. You have chattel slaves in your Empire, do you not?”
The Baron forced a smile on his face to cover up his anger. They couldn’t have known that he is here to recruit them for a rebellion against the Empire largely because of its use of slavery, but the acknowledgement that he is not free of goods and infrastructure manufactured by slaves still grated against his Libertarian tendencies.
Perhaps it would be hypocritical to use their help to rid my lands of slavery. However, I don’t give a damn about hypocrisy! When it comes to liberation, any port in a storm.
“Bickenstadt has been free from slavery for the better part of 70 years now. The Empire at large may endorse its use, but Bickenstadt does not.”
Flavius pursed his lips in thought before deciding to change the subject.
“Very interesting. Allow us to begin your tour of Caprae Loco! For now you will simply see things from the outside, tomorrow you can decide where you will spend your time touring in depth. Gather up who will be touring with us and we will begin immediately.”
The Baron was glad Flavius wasn’t going to push the issue, he didn’t particularly wish to debate his hosts about how wrong they are for having slavery, that would come after the first day.
The Baron’s group followed Flavius through the city streets for around an hour, marveling at the various marble buildings and strange architecture as they went. The Baron was silently comparing everything he saw to his tour of real roman buildings from his vacation to Italy, and he found some very strange differences.
The buildings were more angular than the ones he saw in Ostia, close to a brutalist style at times, though with more Grecian and Roman style pillars. The buildings themselves seemed to have been made with marble, sandstone, or brick.
Overall the style was very interesting. That was the word the Baron found himself thinking the most. Interesting. Everything here was so alien to him, he was having trouble figuring out what exactly to do with the information he’s gathering.
“And this is Cibum et Habitationem Regio, I believe that translates into Food and Habitation District. As the name implies, this is where the papulatio live, as well as where food is cooked for them. If I may ask, Baronis, is it true that cives of the Empire have kitchens of their own to cook at their leisure?”
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The Baron looked very serious, like a professor giving a lecture.
“It depends on where in the Empire one lives. In Bickenstadt province, the average house in the capital city Bickenstadt, eh, Bickenstadt city, has a kitchen attached, yes. However, smaller villages often times have a communal oven.”
“A communal oven? Quam Novis! We have no such thing here in Caprae Loco. Senators and merchants have the funds to afford a kitchen and personal cook, the papulatio buy their food from bakeries and restaurants, though the state makes sure their prices are reasonable of course.”
“Interesting. I cannot speak for every province, and certainly not every city, however it is my understanding that many other provinces operate similar to that. Generally the richer ones, like Grössenstadt, Holenstadt, and Waffenstadt. I know that many of the villages surrounding larger cities, and the cities of the much more rural provinces of Weinstadt and Ebenenstadt, generally have a communal oven, or a generally accessible area to cook food. I know that Plantageburg’s town square is made up of merchant stands and places for anyone to cook, so long as they provide fuel for the fire and the food they would be eating.”
The Baron had Flavius’s full attention.
“That is fascinating! I would love to speak more with you in depth! You are quite the learned man!”
The Baron shrugged.
“If you make an effort to continue learning for 50 years, you’ll eventually start to know things.”
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After spending the afternoon getting a rough tour of Caprae Loco’s districts, the Baron’s group were escorted to where they would be staying for the remainder of the trip. Their rooms were in a building connected to the senate building itself built specifically to receive foreign dignitaries.
Each of the Baron’s Lieutenants received their own room, while the rest of his men had communal housing, built very similar to an army barracks. The Baron was staying in the largest and most decorated of the rooms, built to house the most important guests of the senate.
The room felt very different from the guest rooms of the Empire, much brighter in color scheme than the Imperial ones, due to their use of marble and other lightly colored types of stone, as well as the brightly colored paint used to accent the beautiful architecture.
The room was large but furnished well, with a massive opulent bed, sturdy looking desk, and even a private bathroom. The Baron looked into the toilet and was greeted with a hole that seemed to go down forever.
Weren’t there a bunch of nobles who were killed in castles by jabbing them while they were using the bathroom?
The Baron sat down at his desk and grabbed a bottle of a pale amber liquid. He retrieved a glass from a padded drawer and, at the last second, decided to smell the liquid before he poured. Just to make sure it was something he wanted to drink.
It was not.
The smell was very fishy. It reminded him of the smell of Bickenstadt’s fish market, though not nearly as putrid, and much saltier. He turned the bottle around in his hand and sighed as he read the label.
“I almost just drank Garum. Wait…am I meant to drink Garum?”
The Baron eyed the Garum suspiciously before bringing the bottle to his lips.
Yup, he thought to himself, That’s fishy.
After pouring himself the wine the Brayherds had actually meant for him to drink, the Baron leaned back into his chair and contemplated what he would do. He needed to get the Brayherds to agree to support his rebellion, but how exactly would he do that?
He grabbed a piece of parchment paper and began to scribble down ideas in Russian to prevent someone else reading it. Since Russian didn’t exist in this world, he figured it would work well as something to use when he doesn’t want to be snooped on.
“They’re Roman, Republican Rome, so do I emphasize the democratic angle perhaps?”
He wrote down “демократия” before circling it.
“Well the Romans didn’t really like actual democracy, they were rather exclusionary weren’t they? ...but if I refer to my plan as creating a republic…maybe they'll be into that?”
The Baron drew an arrow connecting “демократия” to “Pеспублика”.
“It’s not exactly lying, is it? Oh, what do I care? I’m trying to free slaves. Maybe I can say that my system is inspired by theirs. Or something along those lines. Though, perhaps it’s more inspired by their inspiration...no even that’s not quite right, the Greeks barely had a democracy, certainly not in the way I want mine to function!”
The Baron bit his thumbnail as he thought.
“…do they even know about the Greeks? They’re roman but not actual Romans, so they might not even know the origins of democracy proper...though the way their system is set up is no accident, some actual Romans had to have actually set it up...hmmm.”
The Baron sat back in his chair and crumpled up his parchment. There was no point in actually writing this down, he wasn’t even sure why he tried.
“Well, I could always just lie through my teeth...perhaps if they don’t know about the Greeks that could work in my favor...I could just portray them as an egalitarian people and say that since they are the inspiration of the Romans, like the actual Romans...then I am taking inspiration from their system. Yeah sure, we'll see how that goes. Should be fine.”
The Baron tried to be convinced by his words, but still found himself thoroughly unimpressed. He would have more chances to create a real plan later. His actual audience with the senate was in two days. He could create a better plan after getting a sense of what their society is like first hand.
The Baron went to lay in his opulent bed, the sturdy wooden frame covered in intricate carvings with extremely lacy sheets. The whole thing was very gauche in his opinion, but neither the Baron nor his past life really enjoyed conspicuous consumption. Just as he started removing the sheets, he eyed the bottle of Garum sitting on the desk.
I mean...it wasn’t that bad...perhaps just another sip
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The University of Bickenstadt was a very prominent university. While it had not reached the level of prestige that the University of Grössenburg had, it was still a very popular university for the young sons of aristocrats and merchants. And, like any university of comparable size, it was filled to bursting with young, hot headed radicals.
And, as they are want to do, a large group of the most radical students had become very passionate about a new topic of interest that had cropped up lately: Elven Slavery. Wolfgang had been working hard on propagandizing to the people of Bickenstadt, most notably his public stunts of amicably interacting with Jean as he worked on infrastructure and the removal of racist material from state-run school curriculums.
A young blonde man slams his hands on the large round table the current debate was taking place at. He was the son of the wealthy merchant Heinrich Wemhoff, Erich Wemhoff, so he had had the pleasure of traveling around the world for business and, most importantly, he had the opportunity to learn about other cultures.
“I mean, think about it! Bickenstadt gets by just fine without elven slavery! As do Holenstadt, Leibenstadt, and Waffenstadt! I have visited countries where slavery has been illegal for centuries and they are still going strong! We as a society have decided that slavery is immoral, except when it comes to elves! Why the double standard? We know that slavery isn’t required for a society to function!”
Another student, the dark haired son of the Grossenburg aristocracy Adolf Kauffler, shot out of his chair.
“Please! We all know that even provinces that outlaw slavery still benefit from it! They buy our goods all the same! Not to mention the tax revenue for the Empress and saved costs on wages! And we all know that elves cannot function properly without the guidance of other races! The elves across the ocean are living in shit ridden mud huts while we live in cities of brick and marble!”
Erich shook his head and began to walk around the table, hands on his waist as he went.
“You really think that? Are you an invalid? Or just a sheep that eats up the slop your Empress provides for you? What proof have you of this supposed lower level of intelligence amongst all elves? The slaves? Oh my! What a fucking revalation! Slaves are less intelligent than free people! Who would have thought?!”
Adolf moved to meet the Erich at the side of the table, arms down at his side, chest puffed out.
“The hell you mean ‘your Empress’? She’s OUR Empress. Of OUR Empire. Create for HUMANS to protect themselves from the degenerates who want us wiped out! Have the elves created an empire which spanned an entire continent? Do they have the rich history of art and academia that we have? I would venture to say, no.”
“Well, we won’t know so long as bootlicking pigs like you are heading our government! How are we supposed to learn about such things when we have no contact with the elves outside of raiding coastal communities? Do you even have evidence for your supremacist nonsense?”
“Please, my evidence? I deal with elves every day, I’ve seen how dull they are. They can’t accomplish anything without our guidance! Why would we even bother learning about them? I certainly doubt we have anything to learn from them!”
Erich smirked, shook his head, and shrugged.
“It seems this institution has failed to properly educate you, or maybe you're simply too stupid to learn? Don’t you know how unreliable your own eyes and ears are? How can you be so fucking smug and confident when you’ve only dealt with slaves barely even taught Reikers! You can’t draw a conclusion from such a small sample size, come on man! This is basic statistical analysis! Do you perhaps not have the requisite credits to take STAT 101?”
Erich’s smirk grew wider as he inched closer and closer.
“And as for learning from them, well, I suppose there really is nothing for you to learn from them, seeing as your capacity for knowledge is seemingly about on par with the worst of their species.”
Erich got even closer, getting up in Adolf’s face. Adolf was a few inches taller, though that didn’t seem to give Erich any pause.
“You don’t care about this. You don’t give a fuck about the economy. You just enjoy keeping people in chains, don’t you? Sadism correlates with a lower intellect, you know.”
Adolf’s face twisted in rage and he balled his fists. Erich crossed an arm across his chest and tapped his temple in mock thought for a moment before raising his index finger and making a face like he had just discovered something.
“Oh, I get it! It's because the only way you can get laid is if she literally can’t say no? Or, maybe…if he can’t say no?”
Adolf threw a punch as soon as the sentence ended, connecting with Erich’s nose cleanly, sending him reeling back.
The rest of the young men immediately shot up and moved to restrain their comrades before things got any worse. Adolf allowed his friends to stand between them, Erich had to be restrained. Multiple men held him back while one tried to hold a napkin to his bleeding nose as he thrashed around. Even as he fought to get free, Erich kept up his spiteful smile.
“You fucking ape! Mad that I’m right on the money? Mad you can’t get hard unless tears are involved?! I’d crack your skull open, but I don’t think you have enough brains for it to be a problem!”
Adolf raised a fist and stepped forward before a friend put a hand to his chest, which he allowed to stop him without a struggle.
“If you don’t want to get hit, don’t insult people so freely you self hating fuck. Glad to know the son of Weimhoff is an elf lover! And a man who goes against his own eyes and ears as easily as he goes against his own countrymen! Good of you to give me a reason to dismiss you and yours entirely. A family of elf lovers!”
Erich managed to get his hands on a mug from the table and chucked it at Adolf, the mug bouncing off his face and into his friends.
“If you don’t want to be insulted, don’t be such a fucking retard! ‘Goes against his own eyes and ears’? As an ardent naturalist, and a believer in the importance of hard evidence, I am appalled to see someone so deeply unserious polluting the halls of academia!”
Adolf held his nose for a second as he confirmed that it wasn’t bleeding. His face was twisted in anger, and his friends immediately moved to restrain him the same as Erich. One of them leaned into his ear and spoke.
“Don’t escalate this man. They’ll kick us out.”
Adolf stopped resisting, and his friends slowly let go of him.
“Joseph is right, let’s stop here. We’re gonna get expelled at this rate.”
He turned to leave and was followed by his friends. Erich broke free of his friends, but did not pursue. Instead, he simply yelled.
“This isn’t over, Speichellecker! The answer to the elven question is emancipation! And I’d gladly turn your ugly mug into mincemeat to secure that!”
Adolf turned, made elf ears with his pointer fingers, and spoke as he walked backwards.
“It’s only gonna get worse from here, Rassenverräter! Watch your gods damned step!”
As the last of Adolf’s friends left the room, Erich sat in a nearby chair and began to plug his nose with napkins. One of his friends offered him a flask, which he refused with a dismissive wave of his hand.
“I can’t believe we just allow slavers to just…be.”
As blood ran down to his mouth, he spit some out and smiled cruelly.
“I guess we’re gonna be getting in a lot of trouble in the future, ay boys? Don’t the Kaufflers own a few shops in Bickenstadt?”