OG: Chapter 40

The rest of the week passed by in a flurry of creation and design work with asides for military drill and administration. Most of what I did on the creation and design work was a combination of Alchemy, cranking out vivifiers and other alchemical drugs that were mixed in with my Guards' Food Rations, effectively putting them on a regimen that enhanced them to a peak human level, and gunsmithing, designing and creating a twelve-pounder gun similar to the Napoleon Cannon of the American Civil War, only made of advanced materials. I was calling it the Gryphon Gun-Howitzer, and it was made to take advantage of the alchemical gunpowder that my forces used and outshoot and outrange any artillery piece currently in use in the Old World.

Aside from that, military drill and administration were the name of the game here. Especially when it came to integrating the Streltsy Revolving Autorifles into existing doctrine. Most of the one-hundred-fifty Handgunners in my guard force were not used to being able to so easily fire rapidly, nor were they used to being able to do so from so far out and be able to hit the target with any accuracy. Range time was needed, but so too were new tactics and formations. In the end, I wound up organizing them into flying companies of fifty men each, investing in horses for them so they could fight as Dragoons, rapidly moving to a position to pour fire on the enemy flanks while the Halberdiers and Swordsmen held the line. They couldn't yet fight and ride as Carabineers and likely wouldn't be able to before we had to move north, so Dragoons it was.

While my Infantry and Dragoon Guards practiced those tactics, my factory cranked out a quartet of Gryphon Cannons and I began to train up gun crews, four apiece, slipping them memory enhancement potions made with Alchemy to help them better learn to operate the guns. Most of the gun crews were younger, better able to learn, which helped, though they had to also be paired with an older man, the Gun-Sergeant, who knew his numbers well enough that with the aid of my alchemical regimens and tutoring from a Shadow Clone under Henge, he could calculate trajectory and aim the guns, though I made a point to also begin teaching the younger members of the Gun Crews as well, just in case the Gun-Sergeants got killed mid-battle. Full competence would be out of reach for now, though, unfortunately.

Aside from that, there were administrative matters to take care of. Things like taxes, dispute resolution, and just plain running the town of Alynda were all things that I, as Baron, needed to deal with. The bureaucracy in Alynda was almost nonexistent, save for matters of taxation and the river port, which were both fairly well-staffed thanks to being my primary focus for the past few months administratively. That naturally meant that I would need to sort out clerks, scribes, and other assorted bureaucrats as soon as possible. Fortunately, Piers Van Rijn and his patrons in House De Roelef could hook me up there, and I had a meeting set with them for next week to talk the issue over, though doubtlessly, they would demand something hefty in terms of compensation.

I wasn't too worried, however. With my abilities, I could afford such a price, provided it wasn't too onerous, like my soul or something. I didn't think it would be, though. House De Roelef weren't Daemons or Chaos Cultists, after all, just really powerful Merchants. True, that meant they could practically drown me in assassins if they wanted to, but that was power of a different, less-threatening sort, funny as it was to say. Besides, I got the feeling that so long as I didn't attempt to welch on my deals, backstab them, or try to otherwise screw them over, that wouldn't be an issue. They generally kept to their deals, from what I knew, after all, and were honorable enough people. Being from old nobility would do that to a business partner, it seemed.

Finally, the end of the week, and with it, my meeting with the Strigany Elders of Clan Solomance, arrived. They had largely kept themselves to the camp of Vardos outside the walls of Alynda, ready to run at a moment's notice. Sensible from what I knew of the history of the Strigany, but not needed with me. I hoped to be able to convince them of that fact at this meeting today. The camp was out in a field that had been part of the fallow area, currently off-season with Crop Rotation. Colorful Strigany Vardos were arranged in a great Laager around a horse paddock and great campfire pit, as various Strigany went about their business, doing various chores, repairing Vardos, tending to the Strigany Ponies that pulled them, smithing, woodworking, cooking, and sewing, or otherwise just generally tending to the hundreds of chores that made a camp like this work.

Lavinia met me at the edge of the camp, swathed in bangles and colorful cloth, generally looking as nonchalantly graceful as always. Honestly, even when she had been held captive by the Bloodhillz Goblin Tribe, she had a certain air of effortless nonplussedness, rolling her eyes at the antics of the Greenskins, even as they poked at her. She was leaning up against the side of an oak tree. As I approached, she nodded at me, giving me a wry grin. I nodded back and fell into step beside her as she guided me through the mishmash of Vardos, tents, and temporary structures toward a large pavilion set up on a hill closest to the communal campfire, presumably where the Elders of Clan Solomance met to decide on Clan Matters.

The Elders' Pavilion was a multicolored monstrosity that may have once belonged to a Bretonnian Knight, but which had since seemingly devoured the carcasses of half a dozen other pavilions, incorporating their essence into itself in a macabre display of ritualistic Tent-On-Tent Violence. Standing out front were the wizened forms of a quintet of Strigany who looked to be at least sixty at the youngest. Three men and two women, one more than I had been led to believe. Four of them pinged against my mystic radar, with one of the men, the only one that was armed, with a one-handed sword not too dissimilar from the one Ion used, hanging off his belt.

One of the Elders was a man with a number of pieces of jewelry that were quite obviously enchanted, whose arms were still clearly strong, even if they ran toward sinewy more than corded muscle these days. Instead of a proper weapon, he had a Blacksmith's hammer hanging off his belt, and his clothing was made of sturdy leather, his close-cropped beard streaked with soot. He looked, for all the world, like an elderly master blacksmith, which was fitting, given the tinge of the Yellow Wind of Chamon that hung about him, screaming in my mystic senses that he was clearly a Magister of some power. This, then, had to be Elder Antonio, the head of the Clan's Craftsmen and Chief Chamon Adept.

Next to him was a man who wore leather trimmed in fur, his gnarled oaken staff accented with a piece of amber, and who wore a small bone charm about his neck. His gray hair and beard were worn long and wild, given free rein to get tangled and skirled up, while his eyes were those of a wild man. The Brown Wind of Ghur clung about his form like a coat of fur or hide of bristles, even though he tread softly enough that the ground was barely even disturbed at all by his passing. This would have to be Elder Alexandru, chief Horse-Tamer, Horse-Breeder, and Veterinarian of the Clan, as well as the Clan's foremost Ghur Adept.

Another was a woman clutching a deck of tarot cards in one hand, whose eyes were a pale blue as if clouded by cataracts. However, the way her sandaled feet negotiated the camp and the fact that her blue and silver silk robe avoided catching on any nearby brambles revealed that to be a facade. To my mystic senses, the clouds in her eyes actually belonged to Azyr, the Blue Wind of Magic. That denoted exactly who she was, just as the Tarot Deck denoted her purpose in the Clan. This was Elder Irina, the Head Diviner of the Clan, Keeper of the Secrets of Divination by the Major Arcana, and the foremost wielder of Azyr amongst the Strigany of Clan Solomance.

Next to her was the odd man out. Small and wiry, wearing a Mail shirt that seemed tinged with magic as if enchanted to my mystical senses. He wore a pair of well-worn leather boots that were likewise enchanted, and his left eye was covered with an eyepatch, scarred from an old duel. It was his sword, however, that intrigued me the most. A barrow blade of a sort I had only seen once before, made of dark iron and enchanted to deal extra damage and which was a bane to Greenskins, Chaos, and Undead. The man himself had no magic power of his own, though, which made me think he was the Elder representing the Mundane, non-craftsmen, non-animal trainers, as well as being the Chief Warrior of the Clan.

Lastly, there was an Old Woman in a green robe with a shawl. She had her white hair done in a braid and wore holly sprigs in her hair as well. She bore an herbalist's satchel at her hip. She seemed to sing with life and the power of the Green Wind of Ghyran in my mystic senses, more powerful by a decent amount than the rest of the Elders. Possibly as much as any two of the others combined. This, then, had to be the Head Elder, Chief Healer, and foremost Ghyran Adept of the Strigany Clan Solomance, Head Elder Uta. Of all the Elders, she was the only one whom I could sense had the power of a Master of the Colleges of Magic in Altdorf, with Elder Antonio, the next most powerful Elder, being more akin to a senior Journeyman Wizard than a proper Master.

As we approached, Lavinia bowed to the Elders, introducing me in the Strigany Language, which I had only recently begun to learn. My speech was more like that of a child when speaking Strigany, but I would get there with time and practice. As it was, I caught one word out of every three, though I knew enough to know that Lavinia had introduced me as the Local Baron of Alynda. As she finished, I stepped forward, bowing just enough to give the Elders the respect due to a fellow noble of equivalent rank. Then, I tried some of my halting Strigany on them to open negotiations.

"Honored Domnu and Petru of the Clan Solomance, I am happy to be meeting you and am hoping to be coming to a mutually good relationship for us all." I tried, wincing as I clearly had butchered the language. The Elders looked at me, then at each other, before they began speaking in accented Reikspiel as they conferred.

"His Strigany Roma needs work." Mused the Elder Swordsman.

"Still, he makes an effort." Remarked Elder Antonio.

"Antonio is right, Manfri. Not many others would have tried." Agreed Elder Alexandru.

"Fine words are as wind, Alexandru. It is deeds that matter." Scoffed the Elder Swordsman, Manfri.

"Indeed, that is what we are here to speak of, is it not?" Questioned Elder Irina.

"It is. But first, who taught you our language?" Queried Head Elder Uta, looking over at me.

"Ion did." I answered.

"Tell him he needs to put more effort into his teaching, then. You speak Strigany Roma like a foreign child, and if we are to be partners, it will not do for you to not understand half of every meeting." Smirked Head Elder Uta.

"I will endeavor to learn as swiftly as possible." I nodded.

"Use some of those memory potions you have been feeding your cannoneers if you must. It is important that we have clear communication in a partnership." Smirked Elder Antonio.

"You know about those?" I asked.

"We know a great deal that you might not expect." Grinned Elder Manfri.

"Indeed, your Castellan is one of ours, after all." Pointed out Elder Irina.

"It is how we know you are serious about making an effort." Added Elder Alexandru.

"Whether said effort will succeed or not remains to be seen. That is why we are here. Irina and Manfri are right about fine words being as wind. They are insubstantial and can shift with circumstance. It is only action that can harness the wind, in a mill, with a sail. So we must ask what your plans are, and then discern if said action will be enough to harness the wind." Opined Head Elder Uta.

"I hope that it will be, for all our sakes." I intoned.

"You speak of the Beast in the Northern Woods? This Corpsecaller?" Questioned Elder Manfri.

"Among other things. I'm afraid that something great and terrible is on the way. In perhaps as early as a decade and a half, maybe as long as two, a great calamity will befall this world, a Storm to sweep away the civilized world. I hope to buttress up our lands enough to weather it." I cautioned.

"Heavy words, yet I, too, have foreseen great turmoil ahead." Confirmed Elder Irina.

"You are surprised by this?" Queried Elder Alexandru.

"You shouldn't be. The Major Arcana is a potent tool, one of a very few left from the days of our ancestors, when the God-Kings yet ruled in lost Mourkain. It can help us to foresee events that even the Magisters of the Azyr College cannot." Explained Head Elder Uta.

"I am curious as to how you have foreseen such events. You clearly are touched by some power to be able to make such potions and enchant such items, but what power is in question?" Frowned Elder Antonio.

"It is not the winds of magic, at least. Not as we know them, nor is it foul Sorcery, as far as we can tell." Affirmed Elder Alexandru.

"It's a blessing from my God." I informed.

"Dazh? Is he not the Kislevite God of Fire, the Sun, the Forge, and the Hearth?" Asked Head Elder Uta.

"He is. Divination in flames is one of his purviews." I nodded.

"Not technically a lie, but not the whole truth either. What else does your god say that you aren't telling us?" Questioned Elder Irina.

"Don't try to play us for fools, or this partnership ends here." Warned Elder Manfri.

"Many things. I have a particular gift for innovation, crafts, and the arts. This includes things such as Alchemy and Enchantment, yes, but also gunsmithing, metalworking, architecture, and a whole host of other such things. I am also informed that I might learn to create and control flames as well." I answered.

"And what of Radamenes? The beasts of the wild are not Dazh's purview, are they?" Queried Elder Alexandru.

"They are not, however, I have gotten other blessings as well, and the Wilds are Ursun's Domain. I would not be surprised if I were to eventually gain some facility with Tor's lightning or Salyak's Healing. Already, I have been blessed by Kalita's Wealth, owing to the numerous mines recently dug and the trade recently opened up. Who knows what else might come? Power to manipulate Karog's Waters, perhaps? I doubt I will be granted the blessing of the Ancient Widow. We're too far from Kislev, and I'm not a woman besides." I responded.

"Godly powers, this much I can tell is true." Agreed Elder Irina.

"Which gods, though? Could he be a servant of the Ruinous Powers, perhaps?" Asked Elder Manfri.

"It may be possible. They do sometimes cloak their servants." Hedged Elder Antonio.

"Between Irina, Alexandru, and Myself, we would have sensed corruption so close to us. No, I do not think that is the case. I think the young Baron is telling the truth." Intoned Head Elder Uta.

"In which case, we ought to sit and listen to what his plans are." Opined Elder Antonio.

"Very well, let us hear what the Champion of Kislevite Gods has to say." Huffed Elder Manfri.

"Indeed. It seems prudent." Concurred Elder Alexandru.

"Lavinia, be a dear and fetch us tea, would you? There should be some in the Pavilion that is about to come to a boil." Commanded Elder Irina.

Lavinia, who had thus far been standing respectfully to the side, near the lip of the hill, nodded, moving off into the Elder Pavilion to do just that as Head Elder Uta led us all to a small table set up just outside of the Elder Pavilion to sit down. Moments later, Lavinia came out with a battered tin tray with several ceramic cups of tea set on them, handing a cup to each of us and placing the small silver sugar bowl and copper milk container down on the table. I stirred some milk and sugar into my tea with a small bronze spoon and took a sip. It was a sort of version of Russian Caravan Tea, with an aromatic and full-bodied, sweet, malty, and smoky taste. Clearly, it had been one of the many things the Old World Imported across the vast steppes from Grand Cathay. Once everyone had their tea, the real negotiation could begin.

I told the Elders of Strigany Clan Solomance all about how I was intending to grow Alynda into a holding to be proud of, how I planned to buy out the fledgling Settlement at Zarwai from House De Roelef to add to my domains, how I planned to become indispensable enough to Prince Harmis Detz that the Old, Childless Prince named me his successor. How he was likely to die in the next couple of years, and how that meant I would effectively become the Prince of Khypris, and how, from there, my plan was to unify the Border Princes into a proper nation to better withstand the oncoming storm. How I wasn't the only one currently doing so, and how that would be likely to bring me into conflict with Eric Dahl sooner or later. That last bit was somewhat less surprising than I'd thought it might be.

"Clearly, whatever powers have thrown the dice recently have decreed that the Border Princes will be the game board upon which their latest bout is played." Nodded Head Elder Uta.

"Between you and the Champion of Forgotten Gods in Pugno, I think I would wager on you, though. Your blessings seem more scalable than his." Mused Elder Antonio.

"With that in mind, would you possibly be willing to equip some of our men?" Questioned Elder Manfri.

"We would be willing to aid you in your upcoming campaign in the North if so. Our warriors are some of the best riders this side of the Mountains. They have to be, after all." Added Elder Alexandru.

"If what I have foreseen about the Corpsecaller is true, you will need them." Cautioned Elder Irina.

"What have you foreseen?" I queried.

"The Corpsecaller is aided by a vengeful spirit. A Daemon Prince of the Plaguefather whispers in the ear of his Bray Shaman, spilling secrets from his prison in the Realm of Chaos into the mind of the Corpsecaller's Bray Shaman. It is in this way that they are able to so easily avoid Prince Harmis Detz's targeted attacks and strike at the Border Guard, where they are weaker. You will need the speed of our Horsemen to compete with the otherworldly knowledge." Intoned Elder Irina.

"Your divinations showed all that?" I asked.

"As we said, the Major Arcana is a powerful tool." Smirked Head Elder Uta.

"Then I agree. It sounds as if I really will need them." I confirmed.

We spoke for another few hours, hashing out plans and generally getting a feel for how this partnership would proceed from here. However, eventually, we had gotten a general plan hammered out that all of us were all right with. The Strigany would integrate further, sending another wave of settlers to Alynda from their Camp to take up permanent residence. This was to include one Elder, who would work with me in harnessing the winds of magic using my Arabyan Puzzle Box. Elder Antonio would be first, followed by Elder Alexandru, then Elder Irina, then Head Elder Uta, on a rotation. The goal was for me to be able to use my Arabyan Puzzle Box to harness Chamon, Ghur, Azyr, and Ghyran to perform various spells by the end of the year.

I would also be equipping one-hundred-fifty Strigany Horsemen in equipment of my own creation, who Elder Manfri would send to aid me against the Corpsecaller and his Bray Shaman, led by Ion as their captain. These guards would form a cavalry force that I could call on when needed, though the Elders of the Strigany Clan Solomance would get the final approval as to whether or not they would ultimately be deployed. With that, I would, at least nominally, have all the major components of a Military Land Force, Infantry, Cavalry, and Artillery. The only thing I was missing now was a proper naval force to patrol the Tana Dante River. That would come with time, but for now, I was starting to get well-set up.

As the second week of my month-long grace period dawned, I realized I would need it. I just had a letter arrive from my Old Friend Ruggiero. It seemed he had been ordered to muster North early to help defend Vimera, which was currently being attacked by a large detachment of the Corpsecaller's Warherd. He, Baron Calvino Gonzarini of Alynda, and Prince Harmis Detz himself were leading a third of the remaining forces of Khypris, seven-hundred-fifty troops in total, against an estimated three times that many Beastmen to relieve Baron Armando Espinoza of Vimera, who was stuck inside the Town's Walls with his men. Supposedly, it was their best shot at destroying a significant portion of the Corpsecaller's Warherd. To me, it smelled of a trap, however. Why would the Corpsecaller change tactics now unless it were a trap?

Regardless, Ruggiero would be moving out in a week, and he suspected that Anders and his forces from Cabanal would be ordered to muster the week after, regardless of any grace period. The war against the Corpsecaller was moving swiftly, and I had to get everything ready and in place by the time it came to move me, otherwise I and Alynda would be swept up with it and dashed against the rocks of history. Fortunately, it seemed that I would at least have everything completed and in place to be successful to the minimum degree I needed by the time we moved out. Speaking of which, I had a meeting with Piers Van Rijn and Anita De Roelef at the end of the week to discuss options to hire various clerks, scribes, and bureaucrats.

I hoped that by the time I was ready there, I would have much of the military and production side of things wrapped up. Otherwise I would be behind schedule to muster north, and that just wouldn't do, not after I had talked so much shit to Niccolo Avaro and Wilhelm Landa. After all, it would definitely put a crimp in my plans if they thought I was holding out on the Principality. Fortunately, it seemed for the moment that I was on track. Of course, the news that I would get at the end of the week would put a damper on everything.

I would have just inked a deal with House De Roelef when the news of the Massacre at Vimera came down to throw everything into chaos once more. . .

XXXX

AN: All right, so here we have the next chapter. Once again, I apologize for any errors. I'm still in the middle of my ten-day trip to Ireland and Scotland, and I wrote this on the flight to Edinburgh from Shannon on my phone.

Here we see the shape of the MC's initial force as Baron of Alynda takes form, as well as get the meeting with the Elders of the Strigany Clan Solomance, along with some foreshadowing about the state of the War in the North against the Corpsecaller and his Warherd of Beastmen. It turns out, the Corpsecaller's Bray Shaman has been getting intel from Ystareth, a Daemon Prince of Nurgle that Prince Harmis Detz banished back to the Warp in his youth to become the Prince of Khypris. Ystareth has a vendetta against Harmis Detz and has been helping the Corpsecaller win against the Forces of Khypris as part of a revenge plot from beyond the veil.

At any rate, the next chapter will involve the meeting with Piers Van Rijn and Anita De Roelef to discuss hiring various bureaucrats, scribes, and clerks to help buff Alynda's administration. We'll also get info on what exactly went down when the Vimera Relief Army attacked the Corpsecaller's Detachment at Vimera. I'll also have more images and a character sheet update out before then as well.

Stay tuned. . .