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Jahrdrung-3-2494
Pov of Karl Franz Holswig-Schliestein
"What brings you here today, my son?" said my father as I entered his chambers. He was meeting with several members of his council, all busy trying to calm the growing unrest among the Imperial subjects—especially after the recent Norse raids in the north. With the Imperial fleet now anchored in Marienburg, the tribes of the north had more freedom to land along our coasts, leaving certain regions more exposed to their incursions.
Without saying a word at first, I handed him a letter with a broken seal. One of Albrecht's messengers had delivered it to me.
"Albrecht has asked for help recruiting around five thousand men. He needs guards to protect the railway lines; according to his last letter, there's been sabotage—his messengers were killed, along with a group of judges sent by the Cult of Verena," I said, placing the letter before him.
"Yes, we've already been informed," said one of the councillors thoughtfully.
"More soldiers?" murmured one of the Imperial bureaucrats, visibly irritated. "Your Imperial Majesty, you must set limits on that Elector Count. His power keeps growing, and no one knows what he's truly doing with that colossal army he's raised in the south."
One of the army commanders, who had clearly been waiting for that moment, joined in immediately."It is concerning. A noble with more troops and better equipment than the Imperial army itself is a risk. It would be prudent to reinforce our own ranks, just in case."
My father looked away, weary of hearing this same discussion for what must have been the hundredth time."It's already been decided that expanding the state regiments isn't in the budget this year," he said firmly. "The construction of the new Imperial fleet has consumed much of our reserves. We cannot keep expanding without proper funds to equip the troops."
The treasurer seized the opportunity to speak."A specific tax on railway use could refill the Empire's coffers. Those lines are known to yield significant profit. A modest tribute could translate into great revenue without touching the current budget."
My father gave him a sidelong glance."It's under consideration. But we'll need concrete numbers on those profits first—and a careful negotiation with the Elector Count of the Westernlands."
Then he forced that familiar false smile he always wore when dismissing talkative advisors."Leave us. It seems I have private matters to discuss with my son."
The councillors, bureaucrats, and officers filed out—especially those he trusted the least. Only his closest advisors remained.
"Did you know Albrecht commands nearly forty thousand mercenaries in the Border Princes, in addition to ten thousand militiamen?" my father said, shaking his head.
"No…" I replied, surprised by the numbers.
"Not long ago, one of our agents embedded in his forces confirmed it. Albrecht has a massive army stationed there, and we barely knew anything about it," my father said, covering his mouth for a moment in thought.
"You have spies in his army… you know that if he finds out…" I began, watching him carefully.
"He'll be furious, I know. But with that much power, he makes me nervous. He commands nearly a hundred thousand men between his personal forces and his garrisons. That's a danger I cannot ignore. And that mercenary army… that revelation caught me off guard," my father said, glancing toward one of the Reiksguard spies.
"As I reported," said the head of the Reiksguard's spies, "the army is currently operating as a greenskin-hunting force and aiding against the Border Princes, many of whom have grown hostile toward his presence. Initially, we feared he was raising troops to seize power—but when we saw him keep his word and march south into greenskin territory, we assumed our suspicions were misplaced. He's assisting the Dawi in reclaiming their fortresses."
"Most of my councillors and bureaucrats don't know this—and let's hope they don't find out soon. You saw it yourself: at the first chance, they were already urging me to act against Albrecht. And it's only getting worse. Many nobles resent his economic success and are waiting for me to take some measure that allows them to attack his influence through taxes or restrictive laws," my father said, fixing his gaze on me.
"That would be foolish… Albrecht has been loyal to us. To turn on him would be"
"I know," he interrupted. "But appearances must be maintained. Albrecht has strong ties with the Elector Counts of Middenheim and Middenland for his aid against the beastmen, with the von Mackensens, and of course, with Konstantin—who's obsessed with his smokeless powder and inventions. But beyond that circle, nearly every other noble detests him."
"I know Albrecht's a terrible diplomat and prefers to solve problems with fists rather than words, but half the Empire hating him? Isn't that a bit extreme?" I asked, clearly surprised.
"The problem is, he's dismantling noble monopolies—reducing their power, even if unintentionally. Right now, he has his railway from Altdorf to Nuln, and from Nuln to Black Fire Pass in a day or two. From Altdorf to Kislev in the same span. Do you realize how much that's cut into certain nobles' incomes? They no longer collect all those bridge tolls or river transport fees."
"The revenues of some have dropped by half. Ostland's trade has declined because everything now moves by rail. The Elector Count of Talabecland—though that's partly our fault—blames Albrecht for Ostermark's autonomy. They no longer obey him and are practically under our influence now. The Countess of Averland feels the same: loss of income and unease about a military force so close to her borders. Every noble feels threatened by a railway near their lands. And as for Marienburg—no one has forgotten that. In a single day, he moved an army, took the city''
''And the bank. Since then, many nobles have been trying to bribe me to replace the head of the State Bank. Apparently, Albrecht's trick of lending gold without interest didn't go unnoticed—and now everyone wants to be the beneficiary," my father said with a grimace.
I was about to speak, but he continued."And then there's his trade war with the guilds. They've been quiet since we executed or hanged several of their members for their ties to Marienburg's treachery—but they've recovered. And now they're fighting back economically. This time, it's not just the guilds of Altdorf," my father said, turning toward his spy.
"Middenheim, Nuln, Altdorf, Talabheim, Salzenmund… even many of the mid-sized cities in Averland," explained the spy gravely. "Their monopolies are now in open conflict with the industries of the Prince of Marienburg, who sells in massive quantities, forcing prices down and shrinking their profits. There are already private heralds urging citizens not to buy products unapproved by the guilds—a way to slow, at least slightly, the consumption of Westerlands crafts and goods. Although… some radicals are already talking about burning his warehouses."
Father fell silent for a moment before replying."So the letter confirms this is escalating into something far more serious. Someone must have killed Albrecht's messengers. That must be investigated."
After a brief pause, he sighed."For now, grant him authorization to recruit as many men as he requests. But this will be the last time. The growth of Altdorf itself has slowed because of his constant recruitment in the city."
He signed the recruitment order with a weary motion."Thousands have arrived, —but most are women and children, who contribute little to the economy since the men have joined Albrecht's armies. All they do is drive up housing prices and fuel public discontent. We've even had to increase our grain silos to meet the growing population's needs."
"And we should assign someone to investigate what happened to the messengers. That can't go unanswered," I said firmly.
"Indeed, my son," my father replied. "If their bodies are found, perhaps a few Amethyst Magisters could learn something. But if not, there's little to be done. Still, send a Magister of the Amethyst Order with a company of guards for protection." He turned toward one of the Reiksguard knights, who bowed and departed to carry out the order.
"Now then—when do you depart south?" Father asked with evident interest.
"In two weeks," I replied. "I'm gathering as much smokeless powder and as many cannons from Albrecht's foundries as possible for the campaign to finish subduing the Border Princes. You should start thinking about who will receive the title over those lands afterward."
"Good. Take the hammer with you… we must take advantage of this year's agricultural prosperity to launch the campaign and secure the south. With it, nearly all our borders will be safe. Then only Sylvania and the beastmen will remain. For the first time since Sigmar's era, the Empire will have secure frontiers—Bretonnia nearly subdued, Kislev pacified, the border princes under control, greenskins destroyed, and our friendship with the Dawi stronger than ever. We will use this time to prepare for the coming storm," Father said, smiling.
I was about to leave to review the lists of the Imperial army when a knight burst into the chamber, visibly shaken.
"Your Imperial Majesty… we have a visitor. The great Archmage Teclis requests an immediate audience," he announced, bowing nervously.
"Teclis…? Why was the Phoenix King's embassy not informed of his arrival?" Father asked, frowning, clearly uneasy.
"I don't know, my emperor. He simply… appeared. He's here now."
"Very well. Let him in. At once," said Father. I moved to stand beside him, both of us fixing our eyes on the door.
Moments later, Teclis entered, golden staff in hand, accompanied by a handful of proud attendants.
"Chosen of Sigmar," he said with his calm voice. "I thank you for receiving me without notice. I trust you will forgive my lack of protocol—the nature of my visit allows no delay."He gave a small nod before continuing."I have received word that one of your vassals, Albrecht, possesses a… singular magical gift. One that, according to rumor, ties him directly to Sigmar's own sacred fire. Naturally, my curiosity was stirred. I attempted to locate him in Marienburg, but his men claimed he was in the capital."
His cold eyes fixed on my father."I have been unable to locate him through conventional means. Therefore, I come to you with a formal request. I wish—if the Empire allows it—to study the Count briefly. A simple, direct observation. Nothing more."
Father hesitated, searching for words."I… I'm afraid that's not possible. The Elector Count is no longer within the Empire. He departed not long ago for a campaign in Karaz Ankor. He is not presently available for… such observation."
Teclis slowly raised one eyebrow,"A true misfortune," he said . "I had hoped this inquiry might be brief, discreet, and uncomplicated. But it seems that will not be the case."
"I trust, however," he continued, "that you, Chosen of Sigmar, possess more precise information regarding his whereabouts—at least a direction from which to begin my search."
"All I know is that he marched south," my father said cautiously. "No detailed itinerary was shared with me."
"Karak Eight Peaks," I interjected, meeting the High Elf's piercing gaze. "That's what he told me. He intends to aid in its reconquest. And, by his own words, he will not return until the campaign is complete—or until next year, if necessary."
Teclis inclined his head slightly"Then Karak Eight Peaks shall be my destination. Though I would have preferred to conduct my study in a setting less… infested with greenskins."
His gaze drifted briefly toward the window, as if calculating the journey ahead."I thank you for your honesty. I will seek the Count myself. Let us hope his presence is not already disturbing the delicate balance upon which this world precariously rests."
The High Elf turned and left, his golden staff echoing against the marble as his entourage followed in perfect silence.
"Move your plans forward, my son, and accompany him," said my father after a pause. "I doubt they'll let him board one of Albrecht's trains—but if it's by Imperial decree, perhaps they'll comply. We can't afford to make the Archmage wait."
I nodded and left at once, already thinking of how I might persuade him—if persuasion was even possible.
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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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