Before the Storm: Act 1, Chapter 9
Chapter 9
What is this place…?
Unlike Zwillingstürme, Corelyn Harbour did exist on the Empire’s maps. It was marked as a village on the Katze River, however. After seeing the new town on the imperial border, Rangobart assumed that the village had undergone some changes as well, but he had woefully underestimated their extent.
As they rode south from the crossroads between the Empire, Re-Estize, and the Slane Theocracy, they were greeted by the sight of what could only be described as a city wall. Its pure white limestone was awash in magical lighting, giving the vista before them a glowing, mystical quality. At every tower fluttered two banners: the vermillion and gold standard of the Sorcerous Kingdom, and a silver goblet filled with red wine set on a field of cobalt.
Not two years have passed since the appearance of the Sorcerous Kingdom…right?
The significance of the sight ahead of them was not lost on the carriage’s other occupants. If the Baharuth Empire focused all of its excess resources on a single project, it could perhaps raise a new town similar to Zwillingstürme in the same time, minus its glass canopy and absurdly thick walls. Corelyn Harbour, however, was absolutely impossible. That Zwillingstürme, Corelyn Harbour, and the new infrastructure they were travelling on had all been built in the same period sent a clear message about the overwhelming industrial might of the Empire’s new suzerain.
“Out of curiosity, Lady Wagner,” Count Roberbad asked, “was Corelyn Harbour being reconstructed when it was still a part of Re-Estize?”
“No, my lord,” Countess Wagner answered. “Before the Battle of Katze Plains, it was a part of the same vineyard we’re currently travelling through. Two more new towns were built on the highway to the Theocracy border at the same time and I believe the rural roads in the thirteen baronies of Corelyn County are around twenty-five per cent paved.”
“But…how is that even possible? Did the Sorcerer King use some grand spell to create this all from nothing?”
As far as Rangobart knew, no such spell existed. The extent of the Imperial Ministry of Magic’s forays into conjuration were spells that could create basic construction materials. At best, there was a Third-tier spell that could temporarily summon a small cottage.
“Magic was involved in some of Corelyn Harbour’s construction,” Lady Wagner replied, “but most of it was accomplished through mundane artifice. If I recall correctly, a delegation from the Imperial Ministry of Magic was here when we held a public demonstration of the terraforming magic that created the foundations of the town.”
Rangobart’s family turned their gazes to him.
How am I supposed to know? I was in the northwest with the Second Army Group this entire time.
“The Imperial Ministry of Magic may have witnessed what you speak of, my lady,” he said, “but I can’t recall them publishing their findings anywhere. As a whole, the fellows at the Ministry are rather reclusive.”
“I see,” Lady Wagner said. “I was wondering how it was possible not to generate any interest from the Empire after that demonstration. Well, now that you’re here, you can examine what we have to offer firsthand.”
Their carriage entered a gate positioned under the raised foundations of the town’s walls. The highway went through a canyon-like passage before going through a second gatehouse. Rangobart nearly pressed his face to the glass as a breathtaking vista opened up before them.
The highway was raised above the town proper, giving them a clear view of the lively goings-on below. Like Zwillingstürme, the buildings were all fashioned from stone, but the white limestone of Corelyn Harbour lacked the oppressive feel of the other town’s grey granite. Greenery and flowing fountains graced the town’s plazas and, like Zwillingstürme, none of the more unpleasant aspects of town life could be detected.
As he tried to take in as many details as he could, they crossed through yet another gatehouse. This time, they emerged high above the town’s namesake harbour. Rangobart could only gape in awe at the rows of warehouses that stretched a kilometre to either side.
“You can’t seriously call this a town,” he said. “This place is larger than any city in the Empire aside from Arwintar. So is Zwillingstürme, for that matter.”
“The two towns are bigger than E-Rantel, too,” Lady Wagner replied. “For now. The new towns springing up are built with the future in mind. This is the new reality, so I’m sure you can imagine our frustration when the Empire insists on clinging to its impoverished past.”
‘Impoverished’ was a word that one would never use to describe the Baharuth Empire. Yet, with the sights on display all around them, they could hardly refute her.
“The members of my party are undoubtedly keen on achieving a similar degree of economic might for their own lands,” Count Roberbad said, “but it’s the details that matter, yes?”
“Of course, my lord,” Lady Wagner smiled. “Over the next two weeks, we will do our best to ensure that you are thoroughly informed of your options and what they entail.”
The highway crossed over the waters of the river, feeding their carriages into a fully fortified island that ran the length of the harbour. From a single glance, Rangobart doubted that the entire Imperial Army could scratch the thing and that caused him once again to wonder what the Sorcerous Kingdom was trying to defend itself against.
“Lady Wagner,” He asked, “is there any particular reason for such a large island fortress? Both Zwillingstürme and Corelyn Harbour also have substantial layers of defence.”
Both his father and his brother looked at him as if he had broached a taboo topic. Countess Wagner, however, didn’t display any sign of offence.
“That would be the doing of Baroness Zahradnik,” she said. “I suppose it’s what happens when a martial Noble obtains influence and resources.”
“Indeed,” Count Roberbad harrumphed. “We of the Baharuth Empire are all too familiar with this. Due to the Emperor’s ties with the martial aristocracy, the entire country is slowly becoming some sort of manufactory that churns out Imperial Knights.”
One of those Imperial Knights is right here, you know? You even encouraged me to become one…
That was an unfair line of thought, of course. His family had taken a calculated risk in having him enlist in the Imperial Army – one that had reasonably good odds of paying off. War Wizards were always in high demand and Nobles enlisting in the army started as Third-class Knights. A decade of service to the Empire was practically guaranteed to result in some land and routine patrols as a War Wizard weren’t particularly dangerous.
“Is there any truth to the rumours about a new imperial campaign, my lord?” Lady Wagner asked.
“It’s hard to imagine it being anything else with all of the recent activity,” Rangobart’s father answered. “Of course, we’re the ones who have to supply that rowdy bunch.”
“Would expansion not bring new wealth to the Empire?”
“To the Empire, yes. Where it ends up is another story. The winter conquests have undoubtedly whetted the appetites of the central bureaucracy and the Imperial Army. I wouldn’t be surprised if even more of the budget was allocated to the military.”
“Some might call that an investment in territorial acquisition,” Lady Wagner noted.
“Hmph. If it was so easy to acquire new territories, there wouldn’t be any wilderness left to conquer. The unclaimed lands are vast compared to the countries nestled within them for good reason. I suppose that, to the brute holding the spear, every problem can be solved by stabbing it.”
Their carriage slowed to turn into an ornate gate with an expansive garden on the other side. At the end of the garden, framed by the fortress walls that extended past it, was a palace that wouldn’t look out of place in a Bard’s tale. Rangobart frowned as their carriage followed the road around the garden and he realised how huge it was.
“That’s Castle Corelyn?” He asked.
“That’s right,” Lady Wagner answered. “It’s more the keep of the citadel of the fortress, but we decided that calling it a keep would be a great disservice.”
“How big is it?”
“Fifty metres by two hundred, with three main storeys and three basements. The front half serves as the office of House Corelyn and the back half is where various functions are hosted. The state rooms for your party are also located there.”
This thing is almost twice as large as the Imperial Palace…
The only buildings that he knew of that might rival it were the six high temples of Ciruxsantex, the capital of the Slane Theocracy.
“One must wonder what E-Rantel looks like now if you have all of this in a provincial centre,” Rangobart muttered.
“E-Rantel actually hasn’t changed much,” Countess Wagner said. “It’s one thing to build something from the ground up and another to deal with something that’s already there. The Royal Court is still trying to figure out how to fix all of the problems that come with its antiquated design.”
“Considering the fact that Re-Estize built it,” Count Roberbad sniffed, “there must be a great many problems indeed.”
As always, imperial citizens, be they Nobles or commoners, jumped at the chance to take jabs at their rivals in the west. He wasn’t sure whether it was such a good idea considering that their hosts were until just recently Nobles of Re-Estize. The policies of their new liege lord didn’t demand a belligerent stance toward their neighbours and they might still have blood ties to their old kingdom.
Four rows of footmen and Maids awaited their arrival, arranged in wings upon the sweeping steps of the palace entrance. At their head stood a single noblewoman who could only be described as a radiant jewel of transcendent beauty. Her waves of lustrous blonde hair shone with a silken sheen in the glow of the garden’s magical lighting as she swept out her cobalt skirts in a graceful curtsey.
“Welcome, dear guests from the Empire,” her silvery voice played over them as it danced with the evening breeze. “Welcome to Corelyn Castle. I am Clara Odilia Dale Corelyn, and it is my greatest pleasure to be your host for this momentous occasion.”
Rangobart stood spellbound, the voices of the Nobles making their introductions fading away into the background. She possessed a beauty beyond imagining, and his pulse picked up as she slowly made her way down the line toward him. Before he knew it, she was holding her hand out toward him.
“Viscount Rangobart Eck Waraiya Roberbad,” he said before leaning forward to press his lips against the back of her hand. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Countess Corelyn.”
When he straightened again, he found Arlandor – and Countess Wagner, for some reason – giving him odd looks.
I’m an idiot.
Why had he introduced himself in that fashion? It was as if he had become a child again, compelled to place himself as highly as possible before the Countess. To make things worse, he hadn’t yet decided what his principal title was so he had foolishly resorted to using his father’s title.
Countess Corelyn bestowed a dazzling smile upon him.
“I’ve heard much about you from Baroness Zahradnik, my lord. You have our most heartfelt thanks for your service as her liaison to the Second Army Group.”
“Ah, no, I was proud to do my duty. It was quite an educational experience for both of us.”
With that, the Countess moved on to exchange greetings with the line of barons beyond him. Once the long series of introductions was complete, they were guided into the palace while their attendants went to handle their luggage. They passed through a set of towering doors and entered an arching atrium with open balconies on either side. High above them, the stars twinkled through a clear glass canopy that stretched to the far end of their path.
“This portion of the palace is the administrative centre of Corelyn County,” Lady Corelyn spoke as they went along. “It contains over a hundred offices and eight large archives. At its full capacity, it has workspace for a thousand members of the administrative staff.”
“This is surely a grand sight to behold, Lady Corelyn,” Count Roberbad said. “But is this all truly necessary for a single county?”
“In the past, no. Corelyn County consists of thirteen large baronies, but, even so, this would be too much if it were still a part of Re-Estize or the Empire. As a territory of her Sorcerous Kingdom, however, Corelyn County is projected to have a population of five million within the next two centuries. Well before that point, we’ll have an entire administrative complex on the eastern side of the fortress.”
A low murmur filled the air as the imperial party reacted to her extravagant claim.
“Five million? Are you saying that a single county in the Sorcerous Kingdom will house more than half the population of the Empire in eight generations?”
“Yes, my lord. At least if our current policies remain unchanged. I elected to mention this as a preface to the upcoming discourse. As a client state of the Sorcerous Kingdom, the Baharuth Empire will be unavoidably influenced by everything that our relationship entails. Sooner or later, the Imperial Administration will see what we’ve accomplished and decide that it, too, wishes to partake of the same advances that we have.”
Count Roberbad stroked the stubble of his jaw with a sharp expression.
“So you are implying that we should seize this opportunity.”
“Indeed, my lord,” Lady Corelyn replied. “It is an extraordinarily rare position for us Nobles to find ourselves in, don’t you think? Instead of being the unwieldy ones dragged down by countless domestic concerns while the smallfolk are free to dance according to the winds of change, it is the Imperial Administration that now finds itself in that position. By taking the initiative long before the Imperial Administration can steal it from you, the Nobles of the Empire may do what they were born to do: lead. You have the unique chance to drastically reshape the future of your fiefs, and by doing so you will reshape the future of the Baharuth Empire.”
The party’s steps echoed through the chamber as its members digested the Countess’ words. Rangobart didn’t need to look around to understand what had happened.
She won.
With her opening blow, Countess Corelyn had won.
If one was being highly uncharitable, the state of the Empire’s developed lands could be called ‘stagnant’. It wasn’t any fault of the nobility: it was simply the reality of their existence. Everything was already optimised to its fullest extent as dictated by the bounds of that reality.
They were subject to the length of the seasons and the whims of nature. The amount of work that people could do was consistent enough to be abstracted into ‘manpower’. Talent was also seemingly bound to a statistic, and thus little changed in the Empire’s interior. Even the improved crop rotation system that they had implemented several years previous only had the effect of raising the ceiling slightly.
Thus, the only way to grow was to expand, but the Imperial Throne had a monopoly on expansion due to the existence of the Imperial Army. Indeed, it was one part of a long offensive against the Empire’s civilian aristocracy. Lands painstakingly managed over generations were being squeezed for everything they were worth by oppressive taxes imposed by the arbitrary whims of a dictator. New lands won by the Empire were solely awarded to those the Emperor deemed ‘loyal’. In other words, the Imperial Army that was the pillar of the Emperor’s power and the talent poached from across the Empire was used to staff institutions that answered directly to the imperial throne.
Any Noble questioning the discriminatory policies of the ‘imperial meritocracy’ had a punitive geld levelled against them. Year by year, the influence of the establishment shrank relative to that of their political opponents. The Emperor had trapped them in an inescapable cage and seemed to only take great pleasure in watching them wither away while an endless flood of imperial propaganda used the attainted to portray the nobility to the ignorant masses as incompetent wastrels.
And, now, Countess Corelyn was seemingly offering them a way out. Furthermore, it was through a power that the Emperor could not deny. Only an idiot would turn their nose up at what the Countess proposed, and idiotic Nobles did not survive for long in the Baharuth Empire.
“I believe my entire party would agree that you make a compelling case, Lady Corelyn,” Count Roberbad said. “How do you propose we proceed?”
“It would be for the best to begin well-rested,” Countess Corelyn replied. “Please take the time to acquaint yourselves with your accommodations and feel free to avail yourselves of what the castle has to offer.”
With that, a Maid led each of the visiting Noble families up a grand double stairway to the second floor of the palace. From the landing, they were led along a balcony that served as both a galley to the great hall on the main floor and a spacious lounge where the palace’s guests could socialise. The guest rooms were perfectly ordered according to the line that exchanged greetings with Countess Corelyn at the entrance, with the smallest guest rooms going to the lowest-ranked. Somehow, they had figured out how everyone was ordered even within the same rank.
To Rangobart’s surprise, even he received his own suite. He didn’t have any personal attendants, so the Countess’ household staff brought in his things. Not that he had much of note. Life in the Imperial Army had gotten him into the habit of packing only what was necessary. In hindsight, it might have been a bad idea. With his current arrangements, the only one representing his house was himself.
I barely know what’s in my new territory. How am I supposed to negotiate anything?
Maybe life in the Imperial Army had also made him as ill-prepared as the average Imperial Knight when it came to managing his land. His plan coming in was to see what Baroness Zahrandik was doing in her fief, but Countess Corelyn’s words had infected him with a new sense of urgency.
What did it mean to shape the future of one’s fief? It was normally beyond the realm of ‘what ifs’ for the civilian nobility with its long-developed lands. They were already at the point where even the investment of tremendous sums into the land and its people would only result in tremendous losses.
After finding his suite – which was meant for a Viscount and his family – more than satisfactory and quite lonely with just himself to occupy it, he left to look around outside. Far down the way to the palace’s state rooms, he could see his father standing outside of his suite, speaking with Countess Corelyn. Countess Wagner stood halfway between them and Rangobart, and she turned to stroll in his direction in a somewhat unladylike way when she spotted him.
“Give up already?” Rangobart smirked.
“After seeing Corelyn do her thing,” Lady Wanger replied, “you gotta wonder ‘what’s the point’? It’s her show in here, anyway. Mine is out there.”
The Countess gestured loosely to some distant place to her left.
“What is your ‘show’?” Rangobart asked.
“Machinery,” Lady Wagner answered. “Vehicle frames; industrial equipment; stuff like that.”
“Are you responsible for the ships in the harbour, as well?”
“Those are a joint project. Honestly, with some things, it’s hard to tell which part belongs to whom.”
“That’s…strange if you don’t mind my saying so. Nobles usually avoid entanglements like that.”
“You’re not wrong,’ Lady Wagner said. “We just got really cosy with each other before we knew it. Maybe too cosy, in some ways. I guess it helps that we’re all under the same liege and she puts us to work on all sorts of projects.”
“Who is ‘we’?”
“It’s–”
A nobleman appeared from a door behind Rangobart. His eyes went from the footman attending to the rooms nearby to Rangobart and Countess Wagner and then to Count Roberbad and Countess Corelyn down the way. He beelined to the last group without another glance at anyone else.
“Sorry,” Rangobart said.
“No worries,” Lady Wagner smiled. “That’s just how Nobles are. It’s not as if we purposely do it to be rude. If anything, it’d be rude if he came to us first. Anyway…”
The sound of the nobleman expressing his praise over their accommodations drifted from Countess Corelyn’s group. Lady Wagner led Rangobart towards the balcony to an alcove overlooking the hall below. The sound of the man’s voice went silent the moment they entered. Rangobart examined the construction around them.
“Is that a magical effect?” He asked.
“Nah, just good old architecture. The Mountain Dwarves have all sorts of tricks that we’ve incorporated into the design of our buildings. I guess a lot of their stonework may as well be magic to us.”
“I knew about their roads,” Rangobart said, “but I wasn’t aware of anything else.”
Not only did the alcove block all sound from the rest of the balcony, but the stone deflected the magical lighting in a way that shrouded it in shadow to observers beyond. Across the great hall on the opposite balcony, he could see dim figures standing around and lounging about.
“Who are those people on the other side?”
“They’re the other Nobles of the Sorcerous Kingdom, plus representatives from a few Merchant companies.”
“They’re here for the talks, as well?”
“That’s right,” Lady Wagner nodded. “The entire duchy is here. We wanted to bring in some of the Demihuman Chiefs, too, but that’s something we’ll have to ease you imperials into given the reactions at the border.”
“I must apologise for the behaviour of my peers,” Rangobart said. “Miss Gran advised us on our conduct, but I suppose many things are easier said than done.”
“We had the same problems with most of the Nobles here, so we had a good idea about what we were up against.”
“You didn’t have any trouble adapting to the Demihumans and the Undead?” Rangobart asked.
A set of Nobles walked by the entrance of the alcove on their way to speak with Countess Corelyn. Lady Wagner took a seat on one of the couches facing the balcony.
“It looks like Corelyn’s gonna be stuck there for a while,” she said. “We may as well get comfortable. As for your question, the three of us are Merchant Nobles so we’re a bit more adventurous than most. We’ve all been to Karnassus a few times and it doesn’t take much to extend how they interact there to the Demihumans here. As for the Undead…well, we have Zahradnik. She just smashes through everything in her grumpy Frontier Noble way, so we just stroll through the aftermath.”
Rangobart smiled slightly at his recollections of the Baroness during the Blister Campaign. He wouldn’t call her ‘grumpy’, but she did have a way of overcoming every obstacle like some sort of unstoppable force and she did so with nothing in the way of panache or even emotion. In a way, that was quite terrifying in itself – it was like watching death scythe across the landscape.
“You mentioned that there were three of you…?”
“Ah, yeah, the third one of us is Florine – Baroness Gagnier, that is. She was supposed to be here, but the Royal Court dispatched her to the Abelion Hills. She’s in charge of organising the Demihuman populations there, now.”
“The Abelion Hills…”
“You haven’t heard?”
He sifted through the relevant events he had been made aware of. It didn’t help that he had been far away from the political centre of the Empire the entire time.
“We heard that the Sorcerous Kingdom intervened in some sort of conflict in the Holy Kingdom,” he said. “It’s also said that the Sorcerer King died to the same Jaldabaoth that attacked the capital of Re-Estize some time ago.”
“How did everyone react to that?” Lady Wagner leaned forward.
“I don’t think anyone believed it,” Rangobart replied. “It didn’t help that the information tried to stress the fact that he was dead. Some people suggested that it was a poor joke related to him being Undead. Most dismissed it as nonsense. The Nobles decided that it was some sort of trap.”
“Cheh. That’s no fun.”
“Did he die?”
“Well, I was chatting with His Majesty just the other day in E-Rantel,” Lady Wagner said, “and he didn’t seem dead to me. At least as far as the Undead go.”
“I’m not sure whether I should be asking what one would chat with the Sorcerer King about.”
“It wasn’t anything too special. His Majesty wanted to know how the sales of certain technologies went in our trade talks here. I had to disappoint him, though.”
“…you can do that?”
“Why not? The stuff he was interested in selling is too good if you know what I mean. Normal people don’t care about ‘perfect’ if they can get ‘good enough’ for cheap.”
Rangobart struggled to reconcile himself with the discussion. Countess Wagner made the Sorcerer King seem less like some unfathomable monster and more like a regular, if slightly overambitious, person. His aristocratic training put him on guard and he wondered if she was trying to lull him into a false sense of security.
“So, you’re a Viscount now, huh…”
“Hm? Er, yes, that’s right.”
“But…Viscount Roberbad?” Lady Wagner arched an eyebrow.
He cringed at the memory of his recent blunder.
“I was just granted my territories, so I haven’t decided which title to use. I didn’t think about how to style myself right up until that very moment.”
“I guess that’s not a bad problem to have. What are your titles like?”
“That’s the thing,” Rangobart laughed helplessly. “I don’t know. I have a Kolberg, ?sterhalden, and Brennenthal. The last one sounds like it should be the primary title…”
“...but it also sounds like it’s on fire.”
“Exactly. I’ll just have to wait until I can hire a survey team. With thousands of newly landed Imperial Knights, I may be waiting for a long time.”
“Why not commission the Adventurer Guild?”
Rangobart snorted.
“The Adventurer Guild is rapidly becoming defunct in the Empire. They’re leaving in droves, knowing that the Death-series Servitors will eliminate any demand for them. Even if they did stick around, they’d hardly speed things up with so many new titles being issued.”
“Nonono, I meant our Adventurer Guild. The Sorcerous Kingdom’s. They’re trained for exactly that thing: exploring new lands, meeting new peoples, and all that. They’re even on an expedition right now, surveying an unexplored part of the Sorcerous Kingdom in the Abelion Wilderness.”
“…I’m not averse to the possibility,” Rangobart said. “It’s certainly better than waiting years for an official imperial survey. What’s involved in commissioning them?”
“Uh…dunno. I can ask, though. We can get you your answer before breakfast.”
“I’d appreciate that, my lady.”
“Sure thing!” The Countess grinned, “Anyway, it’s about time I go and rescue Clara. I’ll see ya in the mornin’, Viscount Roberbad.”
This 𝓬ontent is taken from f(r)eeweb(n)ovel.𝒄𝒐𝙢