OG: Chapter 39

It happened one morning just after I had finished my prototype Schematic for a revolving, lever-action, rifle that I was calling the Streltsy Revolving Autorifle thanks to its combination of ranged firepower and axehead under the barrel for melee fighting. I was making it out of a combination of advanced materials from my forge. It was very clearly a nineteenth century design, but the intermediate step was necessary for a world like Mundus. It was also easier to sustain a higher rate of fire this way than with a bolt action, something crucial for the oftentimes poorly-drilled troops of the Border Princes. My next schematic was going to be a more accurate sort of cannon, something akin to the twelve-pounder Napoleon Cannon of the eighteen-fifties, but made with the same advanced materials.

Regardless, I set my factory to producing the prototype Streltsy, which it did within a few minutes, being far less complex than the Lyndwyrm or Hurrican Model Xipe Totec that I had previously produced, before going over to my magical workshop to begin enchanting it and treating the weapon with Alchemical oils. By the time I was finished, this was the most powerful, most accurate, longest-ranged, and fastest-firing firearm on mundus, while also being capable, thanks to the enchantments and alchemical treatments, of wounding creatures normally resistant to damage from firearms, such as Daemons. It would also never rust or jam thanks to my various enhancements and the advanced materials used in the mechanisms.

I grinned and set my factory to producing more of these for my guards, albeit with only the alchemical enhancements, thanks to the Factory being unable to automate proper enchantments, scheduling range time for the guards by company when I was informed of a visit by two men from Prince Harmis Detz's Court. One was a soldier, Captain Wilhelm Landa. He was a member of Prince Detz's Border Guards. The other was a tax collector, Niccolo Avaro, who was part of Prince Harmis Detz's Administration. I groaned when I heard the news, after all, it was fairly clear to me what they wanted here. Money and troops for the ongoing war in the North against the Beastmen. Honestly, I could understand why. It was clear that whatever Bray Shaman or Beastlord was guiding this Warherd was a cut above the rest, a regular Khazrak One-Eye in the making.

For the past three months, this Beastlord, who the Borderguard had taken to calling the Carrioncaller for how he seemed to be capable of manifesting overwhelming defeats upon Prince Harmis Detz's Border Guards and leaving only carrion and a demand for Prince Harmis Detz to meet him in battle in his wake, had bedeviled the Border Guards. Prince Harmis Detz recently called out for the Guards and Militias of every Khyprian Settlement North of Cabanal to muster to reinforce his army at Aldium. He'd thus far been reluctant to do the same with Alynda, Port Donkerzee, Zarwai, and other, smaller settlements south of Cabanal, largely due to the influence of House De Roelef of Marienburg in the area. It seemed, however, as if that grace period was now over. I told Ion of Clan Solomance, recently arrived with Lavinia and their Strigany Clan, and who had taken a position as my Castellan, that I would meet with the emisarries from Prince Harmis Detz in my throne room.

Said throne room was made in what I would consider to be Byzantine-style, with lots of mosaics and murals on the ceilings and walls. I thought it was some of the best work that my various Shadow Clones could have done, especially given how much we leaned into being craftsmen over artists at times. It was meant to evoke a sense of majesty. Personally, I found the mosaic just above my throne to be the most evocative, Dazh forging the sun on his anvil and driving away the darkness. Of course, there were other murals as well, some very much more topical, such as the one of myself, Ruggiero, Martine, Anders, and Radamenes facing off against an ancient vampire with skin dark as midnight in shimmering bronze armor. An artistic impression of the final battle against Lord Wadjer in the bowels of Zarwai.

The Throne I had chosen as my seat was likewise impressive, worked in bronze with a satin cushion and golden Sunburst design worked into the back with mechanical precision. It was, all meant to evoke a feeling of awe at the skill it had taken to put all of this together, and of the military might it takes to keep it all out of the hands of random brigands. It didn't work on either of my two guests, I noticed. Wilhelm Landa seemed to be entirely too stoic. His mail armor and steel helm belied an entirely martial bent, one echoed by the stonefaced look on his brown-bearded face. Niccolo Avaro, on the other hand, seemed annoyed and perhaps a touch jealous. His burgundy and dark red robes hid his fat bulk in such a way that belied the bulk he actually sported, though his bushy black beard couldn't hide the greed that etched itself across his face.

"Gentlemen, how can I help you this day?" I questioned.

"It is less about how you can help us and more about how you can do your duty to the Principality, as you are obliged to by the Feudal Compact." Began Niccolo Avaro with the characteristic rolled R's of a Reman Dialect of Tilean.

"Prince Detz has begun calling out the Guards and Militias of other Baronies to bolster the Border Guard in our ongoing war with the Carrioncaller." Continued Wilhelm Landa in the sing-songy Reikspiel of an Averlander.

"I had heard that he was doing so in the North, but not that he had begun doing so in the south. Has that time truly come already?" I queried.

"It has." Confirmed Wilhelm Landa.

"Naturally, we thought it would be a good idea to see you first, as you have so recently managed to transform Alynda into a viable commercial center." Opined Niccolo Avaro.

"Naturally." I affirmed.

"There's is also the matter of taxes." Added Niccolo Avaro.

"I was told that I would only have to pay a tithe of five percent for my first year as Baron." I frowned.

"That law was recently revised, owing to certain difficulties with the Campaign. You will now have to pay a ten percent tithe. Apologies, but the situation is as it is." Shrugged Niccolo Avaro in a way that suggested he was actually in no way sorry for the news.

"I see." I intoned.

"There is one thing that you have neglected to mention. Is it not customary in these lands for a landowner to be able to provide up to three quarters of his seasonal taxes in goods?" Asked Ion.

"And just who would you be, to address us such?" Questioned Niccolo.

"Ion is my steward and a regular traveler through Khypris and beyond. I find myself curious, however. Is he correct in his assessment?" I queried.

"He is. Such laws date back to Prince Faramond's Predecessor some hundred years past. They haven't been revised or adjusted, so far as I know." Allowed Wilhelm Landa.

"In that case, I must confess that it is distressing that such laws were not made clear to me in your attempt to squeeze more coin out of my lands. Rest assured, Prince Detz will hear of this." I warned.

"Apologies, but I had thought you knew." Offered Niccolo Avaro in an insincere manner.

"Will the Border Guard back me in paying half the tithe in military equipment, then?" I asked.

"Of what sort?" Questioned Wilhelm Landa.

"I will provide enough full armor kits and halberds to cover the amount. If that is not acceptable, I can easily provide flintlock handgonnes, powder, and shot as well." I offered.

"The Border Guard will gladly take such equipment and will press Prince Detz to agree to accept it in lieu of coin." Agreed Wilhelm Landa, readily.

"I suppose we might press for coin from Donkelzee." Sighed Niccolo Avaro.

"And when, exactly, is Prince Detz expecting my muster by?" I queried.

"No later than one month from now. He is planning a massive campaign for the autumn that may do more than just destroy these Beastmen, but also press into the lands of the Zani Marauders in the foothills of the Black Mountains." Answered Wilhelm Landa.

"Then I will see him at Aldium in one month's time." I Concurred.

"Which still leaves the matter of payment of taxes." Pointed out Niccolo Avaro.

"I will be delivering them along with my men to Prince Detz personally." I insisted.

"If you say so, however, if there are any irregularities you will be subject to fines." Huffed Niccolo Avaro.

"That I have no issue with." I agreed.

And with that, the Fat Tax Farmer and the Stoic Soldier gave a short bow and a salute and made their way out of my great hall. As they did so, I watched them go, disappearing out of the double doors which were opened and closed by my guards before turning to Ion of the Clan Solomance and nodding at him. He cocked an eyebrow at me before looking down as if to check his nails. I cleared my throat loudly enough to draw his attention back to me before I spoke up.

"Well?" I asked.

"Well what?" Questioned Ion.

"What did you think of those two?" I queried.

"Landa is a solid soldier, dutiful and willing to improvise, though I wouldn't wish to share a drink with the man. His taciturn nature makes for a great subordinate, but I prefer my drinking companions a touch more lively. He clearly kniws how to use that sword of his, though. Averland State Army from the accent and stance." Summarized Ion.

"And the Tax Farmer? Avaro?" I asked.

"That one is greedy, jealous, and clearly hiding something. Did you notice how he attempted to fleece us for the full payment in coin? No doubt he was hoping to skim a handsome sum for himself off the top. It wouldn't be him who was investigated first, after all. He's also a lot lighter on his feet than his bulk would suggest. Almost as if he were padding his robes to appear fatter, and thus, less threatening. The walking gait doesn't lie, though. He's not a good enough actor to disguise that." Scowled Ion.

"So, trust Landa and don't trust Avaro, then?" I questioned.

"That seems wise, yes." Nodded Ion.

"You know, for someone who insisted on being my Castellan, you really don't seem to have a decent grasp on courtly manners, do you?" I queried with a short.

"Perhaps not, but then my grasp of courtly intrigue is far more useful to you." Smirked Ion.

"So it would seem." I chuckled.

"By the way, the Elders wish to meet you. They have heard of your accomplishments, but want to get the measure of the man they are to be living under." Informed Ion.

"I'll make time in the month, along with mustering the guard, drilling the militia, and everything else I need to do." I affirmed.

"Good. You don't want to snub them, believe me. Strigany Clan Elders can be rather creative when the subject of revenge comes up." Nodded Ion.

"How is your Clan settling in?" I asked.

"Well enough. It helps that the town was expanded enough to take in migrants. With all the tradesmen and burghers you've attracted, a one-thousand-two-hundred Strigany haven't attracted too much notice, especially with only five hundred of us living in the town at any one time." Explained Ion.

"Yes, Lavinia mentioned that you're keeping most of your Clan in the Vardos when we met two days ago." I remarked.

"Can you blame us? The tides of fortune for Border Principalities shift constantly. You may be content with our presence, but if you are replaced, there's no guarantee the next Baron would be as well." Pointed out Ion.

"I suppose I can't fault that logic." I admitted.

"Good. When can I tell the Elders to expect you by?" Questioned Ion.

"By the end of the week. I'll keep my schedule open for them." I responded.

"Very good." Smiled Ion.

"All right, do we have any other business?" I queried.

"There's is always business to be done in a holding of this size." Insisted Ion.

"But none left today that requires my presence on the throne?" I asked.

"Not unless something else comes up, no." Confirmed Ion.

"Then I'll be back in my workshop. You know where to find me." I intoned.

"Of course. I'll also have the Clan keep an eye out for Niccolo Avaro. Just in case." Offered Ion.

"Good, I was just about to say something to that effect." I grinned.

"That's the mark of a good Castellan. Always anticipating the needs of his Lord." Smirked Ion.

And with that, I headed back to my workshop to finish the design work on my new-model cannons. I would book time for the guards to use the range to get a feel for their Streltsy Revolving Autorifles under my supervision. Three days in the middle of the week for an intensive course on the firing, maintenance, and operation of the new weapons. Then I would have them cadre out to drill their fellows. Of the four-hundred-fifty Guards I had, perhaps a third would be proficient enough to use the Streltsy Revolving Autorifle before we had to muster out at the end of the month this way.

In the meantime, I would meet with the Elders of the Strigany Clan Solomance at the end of the week, hoping to meet with their approval and gain their unqualified support. . .

XXXX

AN: Apologies for any errors. I'm still writing this on my trip to Ireland and Scotland so can't write how I normally do.

At any rate, here we have the meeting with Prince Harmis Detz's emmisaries as he does more kingdom building stuff. He also is upgrading the military tech of his guards to a pseudo-nineteenth century level. Plus Ion, Lavinia, and the rest of the Strigany Clan Solomance have finally shown up. Now he has to meet with the Clan Elders and do all the things he needs to in order to make the muster for Prince Harmis Detz's War, all while keeping an eye on that Shady Tax Farmer.

At any rate, the next chapter will involve the meeting with the Strigany Clan Elders. I'll also have more images out before then as well.

Stay tuned. . .