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Erntezeit-22-2493
So in the end you're going to make your school of magic?" asked Karl, his arms crossed.
"Yes. I have ideas on how to use magic and, well… they're within what's permitted, but outside the usual thinking of mages. They close themselves off in their area of study instead of applying that knowledge with a wider perspective," I answered the imperial prince.
"You know that combining the winds, aside from being dangerous, is heresy, don't you, champion of Sigmar?" said Franz, glancing sideways at me.
"I know, Franzi. In the Golden Order, before they teach you spells, they force you to understand alchemy; that makes it easier for a mage to grasp the essence of Chamon later. I don't understand why the other orders don't teach that way. I've got ideas to make use of those mages, but I need apprentices and masters," I said with a faint smile.
"Good luck with that, Albrecht… I hear you've got plenty of gold to spend—especially that loan you got from the Imperial Bank, eh?" Karl replied, tilting his chin upward.
"I'm going to squeeze every last coin I can from the bank. I don't even need to hide it, as long as the bank fulfills its function and the coins circulate properly, minted at lower cost than before, I'll have met my responsibility. After that, I can profit at will," I answered calmly.
"Pfff… then it won't be the only time. It didn't go unnoticed that millions of crowns left the bank for your territories; it won't take long before they realize you're using the institution for your own benefit, and the nobles will see how advantageous it is to have one of those banks nearby," said Karl, making a face.
"Meh. The branches cannot mint coins; they only safeguard the gold sent to the provinces. Without my authorization nothing is released. So don't worry: no one will persuade the bank to act against me. No one will profit except me," I said with a calculating smile.
"And this business of making all other coinage illegal except that minted in 2493 as legal tender… what do you think of that?" asked Karl, pointing at one of my recommendations.
"That… well, it's more about maintaining quality and preventing nobles with means from minting their own private coinage. Making it illegal, with a six-month window, gives time for exchange and avoids disruption. That way no one has to weigh every coin on the scales: all will meet the same standard," I explained.
"And an armed body tasked with inspecting coins and punishing those who shave the edges?" asked Karl, lifting another sheet.
"Ah, you don't like the idea… We often work with old coins that have been shaved down; some scrape the rims to gain an extra coin. We'll have to send trusted men into the busiest markets and put inspectors to check the coins in circulation to stop that crime against the currency," I replied.
"Well… the electors won't like it," said Karl, resigned.
"Oh, come on, work your magic: where trust enters, so does the arm to compel obedience. Besides, now no elector can issue imperial coin. We've got the perfect excuse so no one can refuse and, in the bargain, we increase the Emperor's authority through this measure," I retorted with a wide smile.
"We can't press too hard; they already gave way enough with the single coinage," Karl warned. Then, lowering his voice, he added: "A personal question: would there be problems between us if the Empire directed a military campaign against the Border Princes using your territories in the region as a base of operations?"
"No, there shouldn't be a problem, unless you ask me not to run my train into the area. Then we'd have an issue: I want to reach the dawi as soon as possible and launch the campaign for Karak Eight Peaks to see if it's feasible to recover that fortress. Tell me, what are you planning? And your father?" I asked, scanning the room with my eyes.
"The Emperor is in Nuln right now. He's meeting with the electors of the region because the presence of necromancers in Sylvania is rising. The plan is to fund the Cult of Morr and its knightly orders to launch a campaign there and hunt the necromancers. According to scouts and informants, there are vast numbers of cemeteries and crypts left empty in the region," Karl replied.
"And do they mean to extend that against the Border Princes within the Empire?" I asked, raising a brow.
"No—it's a campaign designed for imperial armies to gain experience. The ratio of melee troops is being reduced in favor of more handgunners in state regiments. In Ostermark, for example, only two in ten men serve in close combat; here we're still at six in ten. We need military campaigns; in the past the Beastmen provided that experience, but they're gone. I don't think any elector would feel comfortable with a permanent imperial army stationed in the area, even if it were helpful," Karl explained.
"Hmm… fine by me. That will ease the burden on my garrisons: from what I hear, there are daily skirmishes and small greenskin warbands in the region, so any help is welcome. You can give me that imperial permit," I said, pointing to the sheet that authorized the construction of the school of magic.
"Yes, here you go. Done… I think with this we've more than repaid what we owed you, so the next time you ask for something you'll have to return it with interest," said Karl.
"You going to send me to fight necromancers?" I replied with a crooked smile.
"Yes… though it will be as an auxiliary army of the Empire. For now we're still trying to convince the elector of Stirland to accept imperial aid; that bastard is stubborn and won't admit he's lost control of part of Sylvania. If we wait too long, the situation with the necromancers will spiral out of control. We hope the Emperor convinces him and that it happens next year or the year after; it wouldn't be wise to act once it's already a disaster," Karl explained, finally handing me the permit.
"Good. Let's hope we act swiftly. I'm off to try my luck with the mages," I said, rising and leaving the imperial palace, which was relatively empty: the Emperor's absence had left much of the governance in his son's hands.
At the top of my list were the mages of Chamon: with my master Hieronymus I could form a group to aid in the making and repair of weapons and armor; their magic allowed them to work metal without forge or hammer, turning them into emergency smiths on campaign.
I also wanted to draw in the mages of Ghyran: extremely valuable in agricultural work. Normally they served whoever could afford them—electors or the Emperor himself—so seeing one in your lands was a luxury. I would do whatever it took to bring many of them to Reinsfeld.
And lastly, the mages of the Order of Light, who usually discovered the newly gifted; they would be useful for locating and recruiting magical talent among the youth of my territories.
Unlike other colleges, which raised visual wards to keep out prying eyes, the Golden Order showed nothing of the sort. Its defense was different: a magical barrier that contained the toxic vapors of their experiments, keeping them from killing people. And, being so close to the Reik, I could tell there was a system of underground tunnels below, likely harnessing the river's hydraulic force to power some hidden mechanism.
I was surprised by the number of vagrants nearby. As soon as they saw me, they began begging for coins in the name of their deities. Understandable: that area attracted beggars because the college received merchants and important nobles. I saw several of those merchants, scarves drenched in perfume, enduring the stench of the vapors while dealing with the guards.
"Do you have an appointment with someone?" asked one of the guards, eyeing me with unease.
"No. But I suppose there's always time for the Patriarch Magister to receive an Elector Count, isn't there?" I replied calmly.
The guard's eyes widened, and his companion ran into the college.
"Please, this way. We weren't expecting a visit from someone so illustrious in the Empire. Please, go on," said the other, opening the heavy gates that separated the compound from the rest of Altdorf.
As I crossed the barrier, I felt the cocktail of vapors. Not instantly lethal, but dangerous if accumulated over time. I chose to leave my men behind: only I could protect myself from those toxins, manipulating Chamon to push aside the suspended minerals and keep a bubble of clean oxygen around me.
The presence of Chamon there was almost pleasant. An immense accumulation of that wind infused the entire college: I could sense minerals in all directions—gold, lead, iron, steel—as well as countless alchemical elements dispersed in the air. Every corridor led to workshops or laboratories where mages toiled at their commissions, manipulating matter with formulas and incantations.
I couldn't help but compare. Though the Golden College was among the most advanced in the Empire, its laboratories were far below mine: lacking runic safety measures and working at an almost artisanal scale. At best, they maintained a modest rhythm. My infrastructure in Reinsfeld, on the other hand, already bordered on the industrial.
After a long wait, I was finally led to a wide chamber. There I was received by the matriarch of the Golden College.
Ah… disappointment. I had wanted to meet the one covered in gold. I expected to see Balthazar Gelt… perhaps he hadn't arrived yet? Instead, I found only a stern-looking sorceress studying me.
"I hope this is important. I had to leave one of my experiments," said the matriarch of the Golden Order.
"I present myself: Elector Count of the Westerlands… the mage blessed by Sigmar with the wind of Chamon," I said, meeting her gaze.
"I see… then you've come seeking training, I take it. Do not worry—we have trained the best mages there are in the use of alchemy and the lore of Chamon," said the matriarch.
"Not exactly. Though I do seek training. But I'd like, if possible, to speak of an exchange between us," I said with a smile.
"What do you want?" asked the Matriarch coldly.
"I have the Emperor's permission to found a new college of magic in Marienburg, using the abandoned facilities in that area. I request that the Golden College send me two magisters capable of teaching, and some of their best apprentices. I don't need them to know more than how to control their magic—that's enough," I replied.
The Matriarch narrowed one eye, watching me intently.
"And why would I do that? Sending two veteran magisters and apprentices is giving away the college's future income. They sustain our research… research like perfect transmutation."
"As you know, through visions the great Sigmar showed me how to create an alchemical ingredient that the Cult of Sigmar has forbidden you to obtain. Reikland Blue—does that sound familiar?" I said, staring at her.
"Yes… we still have some of that compound. But we have almost none left. We use it in our finest enchantment work," admitted the Matriarch.
"Good to know," I replied, tearing a sheet of paper. "You give me what I ask, and I will hand you the formula step by step. I'll make sure the Cult of Sigmar accepts its production as my own creation. What do you say? Is it a fair deal?"
The Matriarch froze, her gaze distant. Then, slowly, she began to smile. It was the same smile I had seen in Hieronymus when he discovered something new in alchemy or chemistry.
"You have a deal… give it to me. This is what I was missing for my transmutation experiment," she said, nearly snatching the sheet from my hands. She read it quickly, devouring every word.
"It is not difficult… but it is laborious. I will speak with the mages and send you the apprentices you requested. I'll find a way to make them accept… or I'll expel them if I must," she added, rising and disappearing toward what looked like her laboratory.
"Easier than I thought," I murmured, taking in the chamber crowded with alchemical instruments.
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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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