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Brauzeit 22th ,2488 IC
The pressure on my men kept increasing. Suddenly, nearly two thousand people arrived in the city. Not a small number.
And all of them promised to bring their families later. With the average fertility rate of these peasants, that means we could expect between seven to ten thousand more people next year. And that's not counting any new migrant groups.
Otto was already working like a damned soul building the school. He was operating at the maximum capacity his crew could handle. Everything was organized—his work chain was precise and well-managed.
The other teams of architects, on the other hand, were building more slowly. Otto had his system running for a while now, but the new architects were just beginning to coordinate their laborers. And I couldn't be on top of everyone at the same time.
I had to juggle things to accommodate so many people at once. I gave away some available houses, and I crammed many militiamen into the guard barracks, which usually weren't used because most guards slept in their own homes.
I reorganized the spaces. From four hundred beds we went to nearly eight hundred, packing everything to the limit. I also used empty rooms in the castle that were previously occupied by servants or used for storage.
Even so, despite all that effort, many ended up sleeping in tents. They came prepared… but that wasn't the idea.
Likewise, the veteran guards from the state regiments who joined me were officially registered as Reinsfeld militia, not as part of my personal guard. My intention was for those militiamen to be fully and exclusively dedicated to protecting Reinsfeld, from both internal and external threats.
My personal forces —the original 1,500 men— would remain a mobile force, capable of launching attacks or movements independently without leaving the center of my power undefended.
Now that Reinsfeld is a proper city, though still without walls, any enemy force that managed to break through my lines while I was out campaigning could cause terrible chaos. That's why building walls became a priority… although for that I need workers and architects. And, for now, several are already overworked.
Still, I kept planning. I wanted to make the most of the winter, already felt in the cold winds, to continue improving my town.
To make matters worse, the builders sent by the Cult of Sigmar had arrived… and they came with grand ideas. They planned to rebuild the old chapel from scratch and erect an imposing temple, visible from every corner of the city.
They wanted it to be the tallest building in Reinsfeld—even taller than my own castle… which stands atop a hill.
A rather bold statement.
And I honestly hope they don't follow through with it, because how long will it take to build such a monstrosity in the middle of the city? It's only a matter of time before someone complains about not being able to approach the chapel to receive the blessing of the Empire's patron god.
As usual, I was inspecting my industries, especially the clothing production one. The first batches of mass production were rolling out: a lot of clothing made from soft linen was being produced in large quantities, with standardized pieces like shirts and trousers. Simple garments, workwear, and everyday clothing.
I was disappointed to notice that when using my pigment to dye the clothes, they lost much of the concentration of the winds of Chamon they normally attracted. So, it wasn't as efficient as I had hoped. Still, I would probably earn a fair amount of prestige by having my troops dressed in such a rare and expensive dye.
This, however, allowed for greater standardization. My men could receive the same equipment repeatedly, produced by dozens of workers operating consistently, generating uniforms to clothe over three thousand soldiers. I also wanted to clearly distinguish the militia from my private army. Sooner rather than later, I would have to begin delegating responsibilities to a group of literate people, so I could focus on more important matters, like my research… or the search for a modern laboratory where I could produce what I needed to synthesize cordite.
For now, though, I had another urgent project in mind: a hospital, run by the priests of Shallya. I had recently learned that they were overwhelmed. The demographic explosion my city had undergone in such a short time was beginning to take its toll.
And it was only a matter of time before a plague broke out.
The sewer system wasn't yet completed. While many houses protected from the cold, many settlers still wouldn't have shelter for the winter. And surely, they would seek refuge in public places. If any of them got sick, they would quickly infect the rest.
Starting to plan a hospital wasn't a bad idea. The problem was that Otto wasn't in any condition to take on another project. I'd have to find another architect.
"My lord," said one of my new bodyguards. He wore a custom-made suit of armor, personally forged with my magic from the Lore of Metal. The protection fit him with a perfection impossible to achieve by conventional means.
"What is it?" I asked, observing the seasoned veteran.
"One of the riders stationed at the scout posts has spotted a large group of dwarfs approaching along the main road. And, with all due respect, even if they are not heavily armed, dwarfs are very dangerous. They are fierce fighters," he explained with the seriousness befitting his duty.
"Yes, but I don't think they're here to cause trouble… In fact, I've been expecting this visit for quite some time. Although their timing is unfortunate, I'm supposed to travel south soon now," I replied as I stood and began to search for the relevant documents: the purchase order for runic armor and the imperial decree granting me rights over part of the Grey Mountains.
With the scrolls in hand, I mounted my horse and headed to the outskirts of the city. It didn't take long before I saw them a dwarfen delegation advancing with firm steps, dragging pack bulls and carts filled with crates and heavy tools.
"Blessings of Sigmar, friends of the Empire," I greeted, raising my hand with the twin-tailed comet gesture, making sure they could see my runic bracelets.
Just as it had happened before, the dwarfs frowned at the sight of my runic armor. A murmur rippled through their line until one of the few wearing runic armor stepped forward. He was young by dawi standards—his beard barely reached his chest. Still, he carried himself with dignity, and his authority was evident. His eyes went straight to my bracelets.
"Where did you get those?" he asked suspiciously, pointing at them.
I smiled calmly, reached inside my cloak, and revealed the runic chainmail. Then, I took out the parchment.
"From an umgdawi residing in Marienburg. I have the purchase order here… honorable dawi," I said, showing him the document written in Khazalid runes.
I saw his eyes widen and his lips tighten as he read it.
"My apologies, umgi. I have no grievance with you," he said with a slight nod. "If possible, I would like to speak with the lord of these lands. We have unfinished business."
"You're looking at him, honorable dawi," I replied with composure.
I saw his jaw tighten. His fists too. His whole posture reflected shame at having mentally accused me of being a thief.
"Custodian…" the dwarf murmured, stepping forward and extending his hands toward me.
I dismounted. The dawi gave me the strongest handshake I had ever experienced. I almost felt my bones crack.
"Ugh… Albrecht von Reinsfeld. With whom do I have the honor?" I asked, rubbing my left hand.
"Duran Snorrison, custodian. Thane of Clan Grundkaraz," he introduced himself.
"Ah… then you're the rightful heir to the fortress, the mountains, and the Dammaz Kron still held within," I said, feigning surprise.
"Indeed, custodian. We've undertaken a long journey to return to what was once our home. With the blessing of the Ancestors, today will be the great day when my clan returns to its roots," he said solemnly.
"I imagine, being so close, you'd like to set off for the fortress immediately, am I wrong?" I asked with a smile.
"There's nothing I'd wish for more, custodian. Even if I must walk until nightfall, I want to see the walls of the place that was once my father's home, before the greenskins forced him to flee," he replied firmly.
"Then I hope it's not a problem that I guide you myself," I said, mounting my horse again.
"None at all, custodian. Nothing would honor me more," the thane replied.
Without another word, we crossed through Reinsfeld. I noticed the worried looks from the peasants—no doubt they thought this was yet another wave of migrants… though this time with longer beards and grimmer faces. Fortunately, we didn't stop. We kept advancing down the main road.
Only at the bridge did we pause briefly. Some dwarfs stopped to watch my blacksmiths working the steel. Several laughed at what they saw, murmuring among themselves. They clearly disliked the way we were using iron.
We continued across the river and followed the paved road we had completed weeks earlier. Thanks to that, the dwarven carts advanced without trouble on terrain that, with the autumn rains, would otherwise have been muddy had we not acted in time.
Upon reaching the mining village, nearly a thousand men were extracting rock from a massive open-pit mine. Entire chunks of iron were being torn from the heart of the mountain.
And once again, I sensed the dwarfs' discomfort. Judging by their faces, they didn't like that the umgi were using "their iron."
Even so, we continued forward, entering the tin mine that led to the entrance of the fortress.
Without much delay, I guided them through the main tunnel until we finally reached the first chamber, where one of my encampments was located. It was where the garrison tasked with guarding the area was stationed.
There were traces of ash on the ground. Clearly, they had recently burned some goblin bodies that had snuck into the complex. But that didn't matter. We had finally reached the place all the dwarfs had longed to return to for generations.
The hundreds of dwarfs quickly began unloading crates from their carts and entering through the main gate. While they organized themselves, I continued leading the thane where he needed to go.
We crossed the vast central hall, advancing until we reached the throne room. There, without stopping, I opened a side door and led the thane to the secret chamber. I stopped in front of the rune and pointed to it.
The dwarf examined it, approached in silence, and placed his palm on it. The doors opened with a deep rumble, revealing the interior: the tombs of his ancestors… and the Dammaz Kron.
The dwarf nearly ran toward the book. He embraced it with emotion, and without saying a word, began flipping through it with trembling fingers. He pulled a quill and inkwell from his pouch and began reading aloud solemnly, one word after another:
"Dammaz… dammaz… dammaz…"
At last, he lifted his gaze, looked at me intently, and quickly wrote in a blank section of the book. He filled three entire pages before speaking again.
"Dawongi… I have no words to thank you for all you've done for my bloodline. I never thought I'd be the one to reclaim my clan's Dammaz Kron. But here I am. From this day until the last of my line… and the last of my descendants… you are my friend. And friend of my clan, as are your children and your children's children," said the thane, his voice full of pride.
"I was merely doing my duty… helping our mountain friends," I replied calmly. "I would have preferred to discuss this once you had settled in and begun rebuilding in peace, but I believe it's important to resolve it now—especially since I see your people are eager to resume mining activities as soon as possible."
I took out a rolled parchment and unfurled it before him.
"We must reach an agreement on the mining rights. By order of Emperor Luitpold, with the approval of the ambassadors—and thus kings—of Karak Norn, Karaz-a-Karak, and Karak Azgaraz, it is recognized that all mineral wealth in the Grey Mountains, from Eilhart to the Wasteland, belongs to my family."
The dwarf nodded slowly. He didn't seem surprised.
"I know, dawongi. When news came that King Brokk Ironpick approved the decree, I felt great sorrow… Knowing it could mean never returning home, since it contradicts the will of the dwarven kings. To usurp the property of a human who received it by rightful decree is not something the dawi people condone."
"Your karak is still yours. That doesn't change," I replied. "The only thing that changes is that the minerals are legally mine under Imperial law. But here is my offer, thane dawi: a treaty of friendship, protection, and cooperation."
I leaned slightly toward him and continued:
"I offer to share my mining rights with your clan. Moreover, I pledge to help protect your karak and assist in reclaiming other fortresses that may be in greenskin hands. Your enemies will be my enemies. I will make available everything my lands can offer to restore your lineage's ancient glory."
I paused, placing the decree on the table between us.
"In return, I want a trade agreement between my family and your clan, permission to hire some of your craftsmen for my projects, and ten percent of the ore your clan extracts."
The dwarf didn't respond immediately. He looked at the ceiling as if listening to something. Then closed his eyes briefly and nodded.
"Of course, dawongi. It's a very generous offer on your part. May this pact between me, Duran Snorrison, thane of Clan Grundkaraz, and the friend of our clan, Albrecht von Reinsfeld, last forever between our lines."
The dwarf took the Dammaz Kron in his hands and closed it solemnly.
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If there are spelling mistakes, please let me know.
Leave a comment; support is always appreciated.
I remind you to leave your ideas or what you would like to see.
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