NABC Before the Storm: Act 6, Chapter 14
Before the Storm: Act 6, Chapter 14
Before the Storm: Act 6, Chapter 14
Chapter 14
19th Day, Middle Wind Month, 345 HIC
Hey, Elena again. Another quiet day at the Imperial Archive. I guess endlessly transcribing records to the new format just sucks the energy out of everyone. How many generations will it be until we catch up? With everything that’s happened in the last few centuries, I suppose it’s to be expected. Everything’s changed. It’s a new world now.
At least the world isn’t burning down around our ears nowadays. The worst thing that’s happened recently is the overnight Wyvern deliveries from Abelion being delayed today for some reason.
In other news, it’s that time of year again. The regional Axis tournament is coming around and all my coworkers are trying to get me to join the qualifiers. I may win our games most of the time but I’m not that good. There are mages who can literally move heaven and earth competing in that thing and I wouldn’t stand a chance.
I’ll still go and watch, though. Being the future Empress has to have at least some perks. Maybe I could get an extra ticket for mother.
Anyway, I need to spend some time with the baby before passing out. Until next time.
– Elena
“Mmh...this girl needs more excitement in her life,” Liane said.
“She evidently appreciates a peaceful existence,” Clara replied.
“These memoirs wouldn’t make for a very popular read. We should have Florine spice them up.”
“Diaries usually aren’t meant for public consumption,” Clara said. “Besides, there’s plenty about her life that’s interesting.”
“I don’t disagree, but popular is the key word here. She married the Crown Prince and her life’s been completely normal since then. Why couldn’t she have met him in a fateful encounter while he had amnesia? Where are all the other love interests? The evil love rivals with powerful, shady connections?”
“Says our number one candidate for evil love rival,” Clara said.
“I’m not the evil love rival yet. Speaking of which, I’m going back down to see what all those eligible young bachelors are up to.”
Clara shook her head in silent disapproval. She and Ludmila remained adamant that they were all too young for family life. It was a weird stance to have considering one of them was now practically ageless.
Liane swung her legs off of the comfy chaise she had passed out on the previous night, rising as she brushed off her skirts. She spun in place twice looking for the nearest mirror, idly searching for a comb in her Infinite Haversack.
“Y’know what would be great?” Liane said, “Some kinda magic item that kept our hair in one piece. We got Clean items, our clothes are magical and don’t get messed up, and we have damage reduction for, uh, the other stuff. If we had a hair thingy, we’d never have to get ready for anything again.”
“Never?”
“I mean, we’d still change things up whenever we want to. Just talking about saving time, y’know?”
“With your trade network in the east,” Clara said, “shouldn’t you be able to easily find something that suits your needs?”
“You’d think that,” Liane replied, “but it’s weirdly hard. Humans are a tiny market out there. The last time I had one of my guys search for that kind of item, I ended up with some thingy that the seller claimed magically maintained a lustrous coat of fur. I was paranoid about butt hair for weeks after I tried it out. It works great on horses, though.”
“I’m beginning to think that all of the conveniences that your workshops have implemented to your products were originally meant for something else.”
“Maaaaybe. It’d be a waste to throw them out, yeah?”
After fixing up her hair, she and Rose left Clara’s apartments and descended to the second level of Castle Corelyn. It was barely dawn, so the guests she could find were still appearing from their suites for breakfast in the balcony alcoves. A group of them rose to greet her as she approached the closest table.
“Countess Wagner, I hope the morning finds you well.”
Why are you offering a Theocracy greeting?
She supposed that it couldn’t be helped. Nobles adapted quickly and Clara was considered the leader of her ‘faction’. Thus, all of their mannerisms had changed to match her southern customs.
“Mornin’,” Liane replied. “Are the kids sleeping in?”
“Ah, they’ve gone for some fresh air in the gardens. We had quite a lot to take in yesterday.”
“Was there anything in particular that interested you, my lord?”
“The much-rumoured infrastructure, of course. I can’t keep count of the possibilities that it presents. If everyone can work together to create this new network that Countess Corelyn proposed...well, I dare think that we’ll wrest some control back from the Crown.”
“We can’t wait until everyone gets up to date,” Liane smiled. “Imperial economic activity will explode once everything’s in place and it can’t come soon enough.”
The Nobles at the table sat back down, leaning into their plush seats as they looked up at her.
“May we know what you mean by that, my lady?”
“Hm? The Baharuth Empire’s a rising power, isn’t it? I don’t think anyone believes that it’ll just fade into obscurity after becoming a client state. The Imperial Army certainly doesn’t. From what I've heard, the expeditionary army is almost ready to go again. There’ll be opportunities galore once that happens and you’ll have the experience and resources to take advantage of them.”
Heads bobbed in agreement around the table. The imperial aristocracy was far from incompetent, but its members still perceived the world through the insular lens of the rural elite. With every new party of visitors, the idea that the Empire was still going places was something that she and Clara had to constantly assert to get their guests on aggressive enough footing to get on board with their proposals.
The effect of those assertions compounded, however, as rumours and spies between imperial factions were plentiful. As a result, Clara’s ‘movement’ for change in the Empire gained momentum week by week. It had gotten to the point that the most recent groups of visitors came in already knowing what they wanted to see. Of course, that created its own set of challenges, but it was better than having them flee at the border.
Speaking of challenges...
After making her obligatory rounds of the breakfast tables, Liane made her way to the front gardens. Several dozen scions had gathered, divided into their respective genders. The girls turned and curtseyed in greeting as Liane went to join them.
“Good Morning, Countess Wagner.”
“Mornin’!” Liane smiled brightly, “Looks like the boys wasted no time with, uh...hitting each other with sticks.”
Across the garden from the girls, a group of boys and young men were gathered. They formed a rough square within which their members paired off against one another with practice swords.
“It’s a good thing they don’t have access to the castle stables,” one of the young noblewomen sniffed, “or they would have surely charged off to hunt.”
“No doubt,” another noblewoman said. “Their lack of awareness beggars belief. Don’t they understand what they’re here for?”
It seemed inevitable that the trade fair would also end up serving as a matchmaking venue. Entire factions were coming with their families in tow, after all. The entire setup in the garden was a conventional one, allowing girls and boys to get a glimpse of one another in a ‘civil’ setting without their parents looming over their shoulders. That their hosts were a pair of gorgeous, wealthy, brilliant, influential, glamorous, powerful, and conspicuously single beautiful bachelorettes had each family make extra sure their sons were putting their best foot forward...which of course devolved into hitting each other with sticks.
Not that the girls minded. No matter the airs they put on, the women’s side was rife with calculating glances and evaluatory discussion as they watched the boys play on the other side. Even those who were already married or betrothed – pretty much everybody over twelve – joined in on the discussion, competing over everything and anything. The boys would probably be shocked at how thoroughly every aspect of their existence was being dissected.
“Imperial propaganda’s been laying it on thick, yeah?” Liane said, “I wouldn’t be surprised if more than half of these guys went straight from the Imperial Academy to the Imperial Army.”
The girls’ gazes went to one of the older of their number, a stereotypically blonde imperial noblewoman who looked to be about the right age for an Academy freshman.
“You’re probably not wrong, my lady,” she said. “There are recruitment posters for the Imperial Army everywhere these days.”
“It will clean up the cities, at least,” another girl said. “My lord father says that the upcoming campaign is going to be a bloody one. Everyone enlisting nowadays is hoping to win titles for themselves, but most of them are going to end up in a Troll’s cookpot!”
“I don’t want my fiancée to get eaten!”
“Why are men so stupid?”
A chorus of criticisms rose, drawing more than a few looks from across the garden. None of the visiting houses were from martial backgrounds, so the sentiment was unanimous. A proper lord husband administered their titles, took care of their families, and raised their house’s prospects through politics, trade, and a healthy dose of intrigue. Running off to earn wealth and glory through feats of martial equestrianism was fantastical nonsense that belonged to a less civilised age.
“At least the posters are nice,” a girl said. “I got one of Lord Captain von Brennenthal before we left Arwintar!”
“What!”
“But they just started posting those!”
“I want one too!”
Liane pondered the duality of women as the discussion flipped right around. Would she be just as bad if she mentioned that she had spent two days giving Lord Captain von Brennenthal a personal tour in a personal carriage during the early days of the trade fair?
I can’t not say it, right? I totally have to say it. I’m saying it!
As she prepared herself to say it, something heavy struck her between the shoulder blades and sent her face-first into the pavement.
“Why?” Liane croaked into the cobblestones.
Screams filled the air and skirts fluttered around her as the gathered noblewomen fled. Heavy wingbeats followed, sending the wind whipping through her hair.
Dammit, I just had that fixed.
“Wh-Where are we?” An unfamiliar voice said from above her.
“The front gardens of Castle Corelyn,” Dame Verilyn’s voice replied. “I recalled that they’re holding a trade fair, so I figured the people here would be better equipped to assist you with your problems.”
“I-Is that so? Um, what’s a trade fair?”
“I have no idea,” Dame Verilyn replied.
Liane pushed herself to her hands and knees, sending whatever was on her back tumbling off with a cry. She looked around to find a Beastman cowering under a nearby hedge. For being so large, they sure could squeeze themselves into some pretty tight places.
“Did you just dump a Beastman on me?” Liane scowled up at the Frost Dragon.
“I introduced a valuable new customer to you,” Dame Verilyn replied. “You should be thankful.”
Admittedly, most Merchants thought it would be nice if customers simply fell out of the sky, but she didn’t think it meant literally. Maybe it did for flying races.
Customer...customer...
“Customer for what?”
Dame Verilyn’s gaze went to the Beastman. The Beastman stared back at them from under the hedge, her wide eyes glittering in the shadows.
“In that case,” Liane said, “selling fodder might be more effective than shipping meat. If we can get your herds healthy enough to resist this plague, it may not be as big of a catastrophe as it seems.”
“I’m willing to try anything that might help,” Lady Xoc said. “We’ve been culling animals for months, though. It’ll be years until the herds grow large enough to sustain us again.”
This deal keeps getting sweeter and sweeter...
Liane glanced at Clara, but her friend betrayed nothing through her pleasantly neutral mask. The Sorcerous Kingdom produced so much fodder as a byproduct of its agricultural activities that people had resorted to burning it for fuel. With their Undead-powered logistics, they could sell the stuff for next to free and still run a profit...not that they would sell it to next for free.
“We can send some your way and see how it goes,” Liane said. “What do you intend to export in return?”
Lady Xoc looked over at Dame Verilyn.
“I’m not paying,” the Frost Dragon said.
“That’s not what I meant!” Lady Xoc said, “I don’t know what anything is worth around here.”
『Y’know, this Ocelo Lord’s probably just as bad as Ludmila at trading.』
Clara didn’t reply, instead producing a sheet of paper and placing it on the table between them. Lady Xoc leaned forward as Clara started constructing a reference table. Clara’s pen paused as she looked up at the Ocelo.
“Are there any languages that you can read, Lady Xoc?” Clara asked.
“Um...”
“She understands Low Draconic,” Dame Verilyn said.
“She does?” Liane frowned.
That hadn’t been included in any of the Royal Army’s reports. According to them, any documents that they found in the invaders’ possession amounted to crude inventories and letters of credit that were little more than collections of primitive pictographs.
“We’ll use Low Draconic, then,” Clara said. “What we’re doing now is constructing a table of goods to help us figure out what sort of trades are possible between your people and ours. To begin with, what are the most common commodities for export in your markets?”
“Stuff from our Nug herds,” Lady Xoc replied. “Meat; leather; horn; bone–that sort of thing.”
“What’s a Nug?” Liane asked.
“They’re basically jungle Nuk,” Dame Verilyn answered.
“Nuk as in the Magical Beasts?”
“That’s right.”
“What other commodities can your people export?” Clara asked.
Lady Xoc gestured at her garb, which resembled a kind of loose robe with additional layers draped atop it.
“We have jute,” she answered. “It’s not usually as fancy as this, but everyone uses it. Also, there’s our woodcraft...honestly, if I knew I was going to be doing this I would have asked Master Leeds to put something together.”
“Who’s Master Leeds?” Liane asked.
“The Guildmaster of our Merchant Guild branch.”
“...you have a Merchant Guild?”
In response, the Ocelo Lord took the leather satchel slung across her shoulder and placed it on her lap. She rummaged through it for a few moments before producing a parchment stamped with an all-too-familiar seal. Liane’s brows drew together as she examined the document.
“The hell?”
“This is the seal of the Rivergarden Merchant Guild,” Clara murmured. “It’s standard Merchant Guild paperwork, too...”
It would have been one thing if one of the invaders had taken the seal as loot, but it was another thing entirely for them to start using Merchant Guild paperwork.
“So, uh, how did the Rivergarden Merchant Guild end up in your territory?” Liane asked.
“We bought it,” Lady Xoc answered.
“Hah?”
“We went to see what the Draconic Kingdom was like before the Deluge this year,” the Ocelo Lord said. “It seemed like a waste for them to just get eaten, so we bought Master Leeds, his staff, and a bunch of Humans from Rivergarden by the Guildmaster’s recommendation.”
This keeps getting weirder and weirder.
“So you went to ‘visit’ the Draconic Kingdom,” Liane said, “‘looked around’, and then somehow enslaved the Rivergarden Merchant Guild. Then you brought them back to wherever you came from–”
“Ghrkhor’storof’hekheralhr,” Lady Xoc said.
“Gwarhrh? Sorry, can’t pronounce that. Anyway, now there are a bunch of Humans living in Rol’en’gorek and a Merchant Guild spawned as a result.”
“I-I guess? Is there something wrong with that?”
“Nope. Nothing at all. Happens all the time.”
Lady Xoc’s eyes grew wide.
“Really?” She asked.
Clara cleared her throat.
“Shall we get back to the topic at hand? Are there any other goods of note that your people can spare for export?”
“Those are all the big ones, I think,” Lady Xoc replied. “My people are pretty simple.”
They might have been simple, but they produced some high-demand goods and their market was huge. If what the Ocelo Lord said was true, Rol’en’gorek might be the richest country in the region because half of everything was made out of Magical Beast parts.
Everything about this is too good to be true. There must be a catch...
“What about the salt trade?” Dame Verilyn asked.
“What about it?” Lady Xoc asked back.
“It stopped right?” The Frost Dragon said, “Doesn’t that mean you’re not exporting goods to the south anymore?”
“Oh, yeah. I guess that means we have precious metals and gemstones to trade as well.”
“Nice catch,” Liane said.
“Why thank you, Lady Wagner,” Dame Verilyn replied.
Clara’s pen scratched against the paper on the table as she added the information. As their assessment of the situation and its potential solutions went on, Liane folded her hands in front of her, trying her damndest to keep a silly grin from breaking through her mask of composure.
“My Lady,” Taiya said softly from behind Clara, “it appears that our other guests have settled down.”
“Alright,” Clara said as she rose to her feet. “I believe I’ve collected more than enough information to begin conducting queries on your behalf, Lady Xoc. I’m not sure how long or far you’ve travelled to speak to us, but, if you would like to rest, you’re free to use these gardens or we can have a room prepared for you. If you aren’t feeling tired, Dame Verilyn can show you around the town.”
“Why me?” Dame Verilyn asked.
“I could use a nap,” Lady Xoc said. “How long will it be until you have some idea of how much you can send us?”
“We have fodder in storage,” Clara said, “so that shouldn’t take more than a day or so to ship out. As for the meat, fully loading a barge within two weeks is probably optimistic, but it shouldn’t take more than a month.”
“A month...”
“If I may ask, how tight are things back at home?”
Liane took a step back as the Ocelo Lord’s massive paw came up to scratch the back of her spotted neck.
“The people in the lowlands – that’s where the majority live – were already in big trouble before we found out about this plague,” Lady Xoc said. “I don’t know how fast this pestilence is travelling downriver, so all I can say is the sooner imports start arriving, the better.”
“Your concerns are understandable,” Clara nodded. “Please rest assured that Countess Wagner and I will waste no time leveraging our trade contacts to redirect what you require. We’ll resume our talks this evening, but, before I go, was there anything else you’d like to add?”
“Just one more thing,” Lady Xoc shifted slightly in her seat. “I never intended to hide this from you, but there didn’t seem to be a good time to bring it up. The Draconic Kingdom is the only way that I know of to get to Rol’en’gorek and it’s been overrun by the Undead. I’m not even sure if trade is possible between us.”
She didn’t tell her?
Liane glanced at Dame Verilyn, but the Frost Dragon hadn’t reacted in any way to the Ocelo Lord’s admission.
“That’s grim news indeed,” Clara replied with a grave expression, “but I believe we’ll be able to manage.”
On their way back inside, the silly grin that Liane had been holding back throughout the meeting finally broke out on her face.
『This is going to be the biggest market disruption since the Demon Gods.』
『Assuming we can muster the throughput to facilitate it. We have a lot of work ahead of us if we don’t want this chance to slip through our grasp.』
『I doubt it will. Lady Albedo will stop at nothing to make it happen. It’s going to push the schedule ahead by half a decade or more.』
Liane wiped the smile off of her face as they rejoined their imperial guests. Chaos loomed on the horizon, and it was going to be glorious.