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Nachgeheim -29-Erntezeit-4-2493
"Would you come drink with us, honorable umgi?" King Haarkon Vikramson asked as he kept enjoying Bugman's ale with a group of his men, even savouring the foam.
I stepped away from the crowd and answered him with respect ."No, I'm afraid not, King Haarkon, but I hope we may speak again. I must say your rune-craft has greatly impressed me. I move among the circles of the mountain rune-smiths and have leave from High King Thorgrim to purchase runic artefacts, yet the runes on your rings have caught my keenest attention. That ability of your smiths to fashion runes that keep Chaos at bay… I admit I covet it. I wondered if it might be possible to buy rings from your hold," I said, bowing my head while he lounged on his throne and drank.
The king laughed with pleasure and nodded. "Ah… ha, ha. You have good eyes, umgi, to appreciate the workmanship of my rune-smiths. And since you are judged trustworthy —enough that other kings and thanes might trust you— I will consider selling you a runic ring bearing the rune that drives out Chaos, which our clan laboured long to craft so our road would be less touched by the influence of the ruinous powers," he said, pausing to sip his ale.
I was taken aback by his generosity. "Ah, if that is so, honourable dawi king… it is that I do not need only one…"
"How many do you need, two… three? We may come to terms," King Haarkon asked.
I fixed him with a steady look and replied calmly, "About… fifty thousand rings."
The king's eyes bulged and he nearly let his mug fall. "Fifty thousand… fifty thousand rings… umgi, I do not think you have the gold to buy ten of them," he said, regaining his composure.
"You are certainly right, yet I would propose a long-term exchange of resources at the pace your smiths can produce them. For example, I can procure hundreds of barrels of Bugman's ale within hours, or deliver vast quantities of iron and coal so your forges may labour without pause. I may not possess the gold now, but if we agree on monthly payments, it is entirely feasible," I said with a smile.
The king thought for a moment. "Yes… but the number… I would have to set every rune-smith of mine to work without rest to fulfil such an order. It is too many rings… and why do you want so many?" he asked.
I answered with honesty: "For my soldiers. If every man wears that ring, they need not fear falling prey to the lure of the corrupting powers. There is no price too high to guarantee my men's safety against the ruinous powers and to safeguard their souls from being claimed."
"A noble aim," the king admitted. "I must speak with my Master of Runes to see how many such rings we can produce. They are not the simplest of artefacts, but I ask this be kept secret among our rune-masters; we have laboured long to make the rune in question."
"I understand. How much would one ring cost, so I may have a sense?" I asked, steepling my hands, pleased he considered it.
"Do you trade in Imperial gold crowns? If so, five hundred of those coins is fair for such work; if you keep to the standard from when we met Magnus the Pious there should be no trouble trading between our peoples," King Haarkon said.
"Perfect. I think I can pay in instalments if we do it by the month. I only need to know how many rings your clan can produce and I will ensure they have all they need at their holds. You may count on my trade routes to the southern Karak dawi for moving supplies, and, above all, Bugman's ale," I replied serenely as I watched him.
The king nodded. "We shall consider it, umgi."
"Very well. I can pay upfront for two rings to begin," I offered, eager to see if any were available.
One of the warriors who bore the throne fetched a runic coffer. When opened, several items were shown: two rings were taken out and offered. "There you are, only the payment remains," the king said.
I immediately sent my men to fetch the pay chests from my campaign tents. In minutes they returned with two chests heavy with gold and we exchanged them for the dawi rings: one clearly larger, meant to be worn over armour; the other for use off-armour.
I quickly slipped the larger ring on. One is never wholly safe from Chaos, and I was determined not to fall for Khorne's crude attempt to lure me into finishing the phrase he whispers in my ear.
Satisfied with the exchange, I returned to the camp where the boyars' quarrels continued over who should hold military command of the region.
The shouts of the boyars still rang across the camp as they argued who deserved the fortress, but I took the chance to impose order. I organised my troops, inspected the state of our kit, gathered powder and concentrated supplies — our march north had cut us off from Kislev's supply lines. I also set down preliminary plans for a future railway to Praag. I had no intention of laying track here yet; nothing promised its safety. Investing such works in this region would be folly if Chaos might take it. For now, Praag would be as far as we dared think.
Days passed and the boyars kept squabbling, trading accusations and claiming old lineage or valor from the last stand against the Chaos host. In truth their pleas were pride and greed: each wanted the fortress for the gain it would bring
"So tell me, Boris, what now? Do you plan another campaign or may I return home?" I asked, leaning against one of the pavilion posts.
"I am planning a campaign into Troll Country, as far as the Groene and into the mountains. That would close the passes toward Kislev and prevent further raids. The problem will be building forts in that region: first we must exterminate the trolls that infest it, otherwise they will constantly strike our supply lines. I mean to march there. Your presence is not indispensable, but your men would be of great use… those weapons of yours that felled Chaos knights would serve us well," the tsar answered in a grave tone.
"'It will be difficult. Even with the Ice Witches, the problem will still be supplies. Prices are rising: the Empire is short of grain and, until the next harvest, keeping an army here in Kislev is ruinously expensive.'"
"I understand. We are the same. Last year's harvest was poor and we are stretching what little we have to sustain the campaigns. I cannot spend all my coin on food; I must reserve resources to extend roads and prepare land where the ungols may settle. They are willing to repopulate these regions."
"'Good… but remember what we agreed before. We took those mountains back, so I expect iron to begin flowing into my lands in earnest so I may smelt it into steel. Also wood and pelts. All that will allow me to strengthen my position in the Imperial market, just now when demand for steel has soared thanks to arms and armour production.'"
"We will keep our word. Once families settle, the miners will begin their work and the woodcutters will clear workable forests. Winter hunting will furnish pelts in great numbers, and by the end of the year you shall receive them as agreed. I will see that the hunters pay you their dues in furs."
"With that I can refill my coffers. I'm running dry after so long on campaign, and my men must be weary from so much marching. We need a respite." As i spoke,i scanned the maps spread before me
"If we are lucky they will be occupied for many months until a new champion takes the post of the one you slew, so I can take my time. I do not need to hurry things. If you wish, you may return to your lands at once, since I understand you have business there. I will not take more of your time," Tsar Boris said, nodding.
"Very well, thank you for everything. I hope I was of help… though they nearly beat me to death. Will you require my aid next year or will you manage?" I asked before leaving the campaign tent.
"I will call on you if anything occurs, but if all goes well and the troll hunts are favourable, we may speak of no longer reclaiming the motherland's territories but of holding the borders as they should be. Your help should be more in kind: more firearms, powder and cannon to garrison the fortresses — cannon that do not come from pirates or Imperial smuggling. Dwarven-made guns are hard to procure, and Imperial ones even more so," the tsar answered gravely.
"I'll see what I can do. Remember those things are not cheap, and that gift I gave you was a one-off. The rest you will have to pay for; I cannot keep draining my private accounts for your lands at present," I replied as I walked out.
"Have a safe journey and may your harvests be plentiful. We shall see if purchases are feasible this year; I will need to watch the boyars if they fancy stealing Ostermark's lands again," Boris said as he left.
Hurrying, I went to find Katarin inside the fortress we had retaken; with her magic she was filling gaps and mending ice torsions — a quick repair to prevent any breach until a full restoration could be made.
"Katarin," I said, tossing her a runic ring.
She turned and caught it on the fly. "Is this another ring like yours?" she asked, studying the piece.
"No. Mine comes from the War of the Beard, from the dawi against the elves; it is far older. This one, however, is simply a ring that helps ward off corruption. Take it — a gift," I said, stepping toward her.
"It's a bit large, but with gloves it will fit. Thank you for the gift," she answered more softly, slipping the ring on her hand.
"Your father has authorised my return to Altdorf; we must speak with the Supreme Patriarch and with the Emperor. I also want to oversee the harvest season on my estates, to see how the sowing fared in the reclaimed swamplands of the Westerlands — in case I can recover part of my investment," I said, looking down from the fortress wall.
"When will we return to Kislev?" Katarin asked at once.
"Who knows. Your father says that for now he only needs financial backing: if he can establish forts and hold the passes, he will require nothing more than the shipment of arms and cannon to defend them. Perhaps in a couple of years; maybe next year I will head south again," I explained, careful not to slip on the ice covering the fortress rock.
"Again with the princes?" Katarin raised an eyebrow.
"No: to Karaz Ankor. If all is stable among the princes, we shall march to Karak Eight Peaks and see what we can achieve in that titanic campaign to recover one of the dawi's most important karaks," I replied.
"It would not be possible to rest a little at least… we've been running for too long, with no more than a few days in the fortresses you took by force. It is exhausting," Katarin said.
"I'll see what I can arrange. We will likely spend the early months of winter in relative quiet, but unless my enterprises bring in stratospheric returns, I will have to go back to raise funds," I answered, pointing to the fortress exit. She accompanied me as we began to prepare to return to the Empire.
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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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