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Sommerzeit -22,2490 IC

"And what's this?" I asked a group of Reiksguard knights standing outside my residence in Altdorf.

"By order of His Imperial Majesty, Emperor Luitpold von Holswig-Schliestein, Sigmar's chosen, Elector Count of Reikland and Prince of Altdorf, I hereby deliver this runic armor, crafted by our friends from the mountains, to Graf Albrecht, the victor over the Bretonnians, as was agreed upon," said one of the Reiksguard knights, unrolling a parchment and reading as a servant presented an incredibly ornate wooden chest.

The knight handed me the chest at once, and they quickly departed, leaving me somewhat surprised. I had expected this to be delivered somewhere else, but it was better to receive it now than to wait months for a more "appropriate" moment.

Upon entering my property, I opened the chest and saw the promised runic armor… but something about it was different. It wasn't steel. Even without using magic to confirm it, I could now sense the difference: I believed this was gromril. And considering it likely had a better rune than my old one, it was probably true—gromril being the best metal for rune work, according to the dawi.

When I touched it, I noticed it weighed almost nothing—just like my chainmail—bearing the same kind of rune that reduced its weight through rune magic. So, one of the three runes on this armor was the weight-reduction rune; the other two remained a mystery.

After swapping my steel armor for this one, I felt much lighter and more agile. For some reason, it fit me almost perfectly—just a little large, which was good, as it could be adjusted if I grew. I wasn't sure if I could use my magic to work a new ingot of the metal to adapt it; I'd never tried manipulating runic objects with my magic. That would require more study—or perhaps asking my master if he knew anything.

In recent days, I'd had multiple meetings with the Elector Count of Wissenland, who was very interested in acquiring my weapon designs. He had invited me several times to his residence in Altdorf for meals, though the conversation often drifted toward my firearms or dawi firearms I might be able to supply.

I was more tense than ever, unsure if there was some cult conspiracy afoot. His son made my skin crawl—I suspected he might be linked to Slaanesh—but I couldn't use my magic in the city to gather proof. That would only get me burned.

So I simply attended, remained calm, smiled, and promised that as soon as I had a weapon ready, I would send it as a gift. That was, of course, a lie—there was no way I'd hand over my work or my subjects' research for free.

But that wasn't all. Once again, the Arch Lector of Reikland came to fetch me from my residence to bring me to the damned Cathedral of Sigmar. If there was ever a moment I felt genuine fear, it was then—surrounded by priests and fanatical witch hunters, all for an event in which they congratulated me for my performance in the Drakwald last year and for serving Sigmar so faithfully.

Luckily, the Grand Theogonist was in Stirland, investigating with a group of the best warrior-priests and witch hunters the high necromantic presence in Sylvania.

So they simply gave me the public thanks and offered financial assistance for future projects involving churches, witch hunter barracks, or plans to improve the living standards of my towns' population, along with sanctified purity seals.

I left that place as quickly as I could.

I only had to attend one last party at the Imperial Palace, and then it would all be over—after which I could flee the city as fast as possible. This time there were fewer nobles; no minor nobility, as most of the high nobility filled this hall, though there were also representatives from nearly every province. This was surely the moment the Emperor would request support for the Bretonnian campaign.

For the first time at one of these banquets, I was truly alone—completely alone. I should have been the one groveling, but I welcomed this unexpected peace at one of these damned events.

Several minutes passed as I enjoyed the food—which others had already tasted to ensure it wasn't poisoned—and watched the musicians and dancing, for once not surrounded by flatterers.

The calm ended when someone rather tall approached me. I recognized him instantly as the Elector Count of Middenheim—not just for his height, but for his clothing, a very deep black.

I set down what I was holding and prepared for the interaction.

"Graf Albrecht, isn't it?" the elector asked.

"That's right, Elector Count Boris Todbringer… to what do I owe this honor?" I said with a smile.

"I was curious to meet the noble who venerates one of the Empire's heroes… and who has done so much to cleanse the Drakwald. I must say, that look—wearing armor to an Emperor's banquet—surprises me… I think it does justice to your prestige as a warrior," said the Elector Count, eyeing the runes on my gromril armor.

"Well, here I am… so tell me, what's the purpose of this conversation?" I asked with a measured smile.

"I wanted to ask if you plan to launch another offensive in the Drakwald this year, whether by order of the Cult of the Empire's Hero, Sigmar, or on your own initiative. If so, I think there's something we could discuss between the two of us," said the Elector Count.

"Well, I do indeed have another campaign in the Drakwald planned, since I felt the last one was more of a defeat than a victory. I lacked cannons… but now things are different. My goal is to leave the forests spotless, if possible," I said, my gauntlet audibly creaking.

"Ah… then we do have something to discuss, since your previous cleansing is still evident in the reduced number of beastmen in the Carroburg area. But I would like to request that your next campaign be carried out near Middenheim, clearing the forests along the trade route to Marienburg," said the Elector Count.

"Well… that's complicated. Very complicated, honestly. It would put me far from my logistical lines, making them vulnerable to beastman ambushes. I'll be using a lot of gunpowder for the clearing, and being so far away, if I take losses, reinforcements would take too long to arrive. I'm afraid it's impossible for me," I replied after giving it some thought.

"I can offer to have my men escort your caravans, as well as pay you for every beastman head you claim to have taken," said the Elector Count.

"In that case, it could be feasible… but I could sweeten the deal if you interceded with the Middenland nobility to secure me recruitment permits in the area. Bringing men from Reikland will be difficult, so it would be convenient to recruit locally and train them quickly there. Of course, with the compensation that, in the future, that soldier's family chooses to remain with me. I'll provide financial compensation to that family for their loss, if there's no problem," I suggested.

"There could be issues with that, but if I speak to the Ar-Ulric about this matter, I think that if he requests it, there will be no objection to you recruiting loyal Ulricans into your armies… as long as they commit to killing a decent number of beastmen," the Elector Count stated.

"And what would that decent number be?" I asked.

"If you can repeat last year's successes near Middenheim, you can count on the full support of my nobles and recruit in all the towns under my rule, as long as it's not excessive. I'll also ensure you can do so throughout all of Middenland," replied the Elector Count.

"In that case, we have a deal, Elector Count Boris… I'll probably be departing next week for Middenheim to begin preparations, as I'll have to move tons of gunpowder and all my available cannons to the area," I said with a smile, extending my hand.

The Elector Count shook it firmly. "May Ulric bless this agreement, Graf… with some luck, we can pacify those filthy beasts," he said.

The conversation continued even as several nobles from the region joined in, interested in my proposal for this year. It seemed many were rallying to the idea, just like the previous year, when the local nobility had been forced to unite out of fear of collapsing under the great tide of beastmen. But now it wasn't just a matter of necessity—dukes, grafs, and barons were committing men and resources to the forest-clearing effort.

In barely an hour of discussions, many nobles had pledged almost fifteen thousand men in total. We would gather in Middenheim to launch a general cleansing, with the additional contribution of supplies: medicines and potions from the local cults of Shallya, food, and the freedom to recruit in their villages, as long as I guaranteed clearing an area near their lands of beastman presence. Everything pointed to this hunt being one of the largest of the era.

Thus, the conversation went on, coordinating where we would begin the hunt and how we would move, until the Emperor finally made his appearance.

Almost everyone went to greet him. The Emperor surrounded himself with the Electors, and the discussions began while I quietly kept to the shadows.

The talks among the nobles went on for hours, dragging on as the sun went down. Finally, the music ceased, and all eyes turned toward the Emperor.

"Subjects of the Empire… I am pleased to inform you that today we have reached one of the most important agreements in the history of the Empire founded by our lord Sigmar, creator of this great and eternal Empire! With the express will of the Electors, the State of Bretonnia will soon come to an end. In three years, state armies from all provinces will march into Bretonnia to deliver the final blow necessary to ensure it ceases to exist," the Emperor announced to the gathered nobles.

"By Imperial order and with the consent of all the Electors, every noble of the Empire is instructed to prepare his men to serve in the state regiments that will take part in the great campaign, which will demonstrate the unity of the Empire. This campaign will prove that the Empire is the strongest human state ever created, ending Bretonnia's existence and integrating it into the Empire of the God of Humanity… a great step toward uniting all humanity under one banner," the monarch continued.

"Gather brave men, train them, and stockpile weapons. The great campaign will begin soon and, when the time comes, the entire Empire will march as one into Bretonnia, forming one of the largest armies since the days of our great Emperor Magnus the Pious," he concluded. Immediately, all the nobles raised their goblets to toast the occasion.

Wine began to flow as hundreds of servants entered the hall. That's when I clearly noticed how luxurious gifts passed discreetly from the Emperor's hands to those of the Electors.

Politics.

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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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