Chapter 8
“Welco back, Lady Zahradnik.”
“Thank you, Lluluvien,” Ludmila replied with a warm smile. “How has everyone fared during my absence?”
“I can’t say that much has changed,” the Half-Elf Maid replied. “The Druids say that the Upper Reaches will start seeing snow by the end of the month, so most everyone’s attention’s on the timing of the harvest.”
“It is about that ti of the year,” Ludmila said. “I suppose many of the migrants have not experienced a true winter in their lifetis.”
“Things shouldn’t be as crazy as last year when barely anyone had seen snow before, but I don’t doubt that Nonna will be especially stringent about ‘winterisation procedures’ this year.”
“Did anything even happen last year?”
“Aside from a few injuries from slipping on the ice, no. Ah, now that you’ve got thinking about it, the tribes in the Upper Reaches are starting to lay claim to their overwintering grounds. In general, they’ve moved according to your predictions, my lady.”
“Encouraging news,” Ludmila nodded. “Which tribes acted out of the ordinary?”
“The Chipped Tooth, Wounded Wyvern, and Gronk Tribes remain where they settled on the northeastern shores of the lake this sumr. A few independent Goblin troops have split off and set up camps between the highway and the northwestern shore.”
“What about the southern shore?”
Lluluvien shook her head.
“The tribes’ history with the Theocracy still makes them wary of overwintering too far south. According to so of the chiefs, it’s the season when they are usually attacked.”
“That makes sense.”
The strategic logic was easy enough to follow. Normally, the wilderness tribes would retreat to the warmth of the countless shallow caves scattered across the highland basin during the winter months, using them as bases from which hunters and foragers would range for food and fuel. The pragmatic practice practically pinned them in place, making it easy for Theocracy forces to periodically exterminate them en masse.
“Have you had the chance to speak with any of the rchants plying the river trade?” Ludmila asked.
“No, my lady,” Lluluvien answered. “I only know as much as the army does. No violent interactions have been reported by the rchants; neither have any been observed by our patrols.”
Ludmila made her way over to the office to see what the tax records had to say about her fief’s nascent river trade. Unsurprisingly, Nonna was nowhere to be seen. The Elder Lich treated the territory’s productivity as the principal asure of her worth as a mber of the Kingdom’s administration and the harvest was still by far the largest source of official industrial output.
“Is Glasir still at school?” She asked as she rifled through the most recent reports.
“She ca back just after sunset,” Lluluvien answered. “I believe she’s out doing her rounds. Will you be having dinner tonight?”
“I might drop by the restaurant for sothing later, but I need to get as much as I can done right now. Apparently, I will be out of the kingdom in a day or two.”
“Apparently, my lady?”
“Countess Corelyn conscripted when I stopped by her place on the way here,” Ludmila said. “We will be going to Rol’en’gorek.”
“Rol’en’gorek…will you require our assistance?”
“The military will not be involved – it is a purely diplomatic mission. Any security arrangents will have been made on Corelyn’s end.”
Since the Beastman Lord from Rol’en’gorek wasn’t aware that the Sorcerous Kingdom was the source of the Undead Army that their ill-fated migration attempt had encountered, Ludmila suspected that she was what amounted to their security arrangents. If worst ca to worst, at least they had their Shadow Demons.
“How do you think the Beastn will react, Lluluvien?”
“To the fact that we killed millions of their people, my lady? Honestly, I’m not sure. In my experience, the tribes are primarily concerned with their day-to-day matters. Even a bad history with other tribes or whatnot doesn’t bother them so long as it doesn’t represent an existential threat. They’re not so different from us, really. From what we saw during the Draconic Kingdom campaign, the Beastn of Rol’en’gorek have a far more complex society than the tribes around here, but the fact that they sent migrants implies that those who perished were unwanted in the first place.”
“The hard part is convincing them that we are not an existential threat,” Ludmila sighed.
“Well, our offensive stopped at the border didn’t it?”
“It did, but I do not doubt that they understand our forces would have extre difficulties advancing in the jungle. Their defensive deploynts along the border suggest that they were confident in their chances.”
“Doesn’t that also suggest that they aren’t as fearful of us as my lady imagines?”
“Perhaps. Still, it is hard to believe that attitudes against the Undead could be overco so simply. I will just have to see how things are when we get there.”
The cry of a cranky child rose from the plants in the hall, followed by another shortly after. Lluluvien’s footsteps whispered from the kitchen and past the entrance to the office. The soothing tones of the young – at least young by Half-Elf standards – mother’s voice sounded shortly after. Ludmila went to her simple wooden desk to read through the harbour records.
It looks like the rchants are still doing an excellent job…
Those from the heartlands might have scoffed at what they would consider pitiful volus of trade, but, to her, the numbers represented the most recent in a long sequence of exciting successes.
In the spring following the Goblin Army’s invasion of the Upper Reaches, groups of desperate defenders like Sun Rock broke back up into countless independent tribes that slowly hunted and foraged their way across the severely depopulated basin in search of unclaid territory.
So of that population inevitably interacted with the Humans building the town on the lake. After a few weeks of promising reports, Ludmila went on the ‘offensive’ by encouraging the river trade. It was especially ideal for the up-and-coming batch of Lizardman rchants, who preferred staying near water and close to ho. Given the tribes’ history with the Theocracy, sending Demihumans likely also made things easier.
The brutally practical perspective that life in the wilderness demanded ant that the tribes wouldn’t turn their noses up at the potential advantages offered by trade. That included the Lizardn, who had also relatively recently embraced what the industries of the Sorcerous Kingdom had to offer and would be able to lean on that experience while trading along the river. Slowly, but surely, both sides beca familiar with one another and flourished in their own little way.
Not every tribe took advantage of the river trade, of course. Even if they overca their wariness of outsiders, the tribes that got ahead of them were protective of the advantages that they had gained. The three that Lluluvien ntioned were among the first to benefit from what the Lizardn offered and did what they could to keep potential competitors at bay as access to equipnt produced in Warden’s Vale had a drastic impact on their lives.
What would happen next was of particular interest to her. Due to the interference of the Slane Theocracy, none of the local tribes ever grew powerful enough to dominate a large swathe of the Upper Reaches.
It wouldn’t just be a matter of who had access to trade, of course. Better equipnt might help with day-to-day issues such as reliable provisioning and light raids, but the real test would co when the various upstarts drew the attention of more powerful individuals. Overall, how each tribe and race acted and reacted over the seasons would provide invaluable information as to how populations in similar situations abroad might be affected by the Sorcerous Kingdom’s expanding economic reach. For Ludmila, it would help inform future changes to law and governance, which would in turn hopefully serve as a model that demonstrated how the Sorcerer King’s mandates for racial harmony might be achieved.
That was a long-term venture, however. For the ti being, she needed to get several things going before she left the country. No ergencies had been reported, but she still had to get her Rangers started on their winter training, discuss how the Commander’s League might be expanded, finalise arrangents for the winter harvest, and spend so ti speaking with her people. She doubtless had an endless line of experints, project proposals, and test results to examine, as well, but that would have to wait until later.
Even as a tireless Undead being, I still cannot find enough ti to do everything.
Living for an eternity ant little when so many things needed to be done now. She enjoyed her work and liked being busy, but it would have been nice if things happened at a manageable pace.
Ludmila finished sorting out her docunts and placed them into the Infinite Haversack on her right hip before leaving her manor. She took in a lungful of crisp highland air as she stepped back out into the village square. Despite how busy things were, things hadn’t changed much physically. There were a few new houses on one side of the village to replace the ones being recycled on the other. The patches of dirt that Glasir scattered over the otherwise barren stone landscape were a little bit greener. With it being so late at night – at least by rural standards – most of the villagers were relaxing and socialising near the magically lit storefronts along the western edge of the square…except it didn’t quite look like they were.
She strolled over to see what was going on, spotting Nonna and Glasir with a full patrol of Death Knights standing at the edge of a large gathering. The villagers all faced the entrance of the apparel outlet, many bearing stern expressions. Ludmila went to stand with the Dryad and the Elder Lich, draping an arm over Glasir’s shoulder and hugging her to her side.
“Nonna, what is going on here?”
“This one believes that an agent from the city is attempting to incite an insurrection. However, enforcent protocols for this particular scenario do not exist. Permission to liquidate the threat?”
An insurrection? Had her subjects found her lacking in so aspect of her rule? She couldn’t recall doing anything unreasonable, but she was admittedly young and inexperienced as a Noble.
“What has this ‘agent’ been saying?” She asked.
“In summary, the agent is challenging the processes of our urban industries and encouraging the citizens to adopt inefficient thods practised elsewhere.”
Ludmila bit her lower lip in vexation. They had finally co. She knew it would happen eventually, but this was far too soon.
“Lady Zahradnik?”
As if sensing her anxiety, Glasir snaked one of her vines around Ludmila’s arm. Ludmila gave the Dryad’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze.
“Do not worry,” she said. “I will go and speak with this ‘agent’.”
She made her way around the back of the crowd until she reached the row of storefronts. As expected, she found a mber of the rchant Guild addressing the villagers.
The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringent.
“Miss Hoffman,” Ludmila said. “Welco to Warden’s Vale.”
Edwina Hoffman froze mid-speech. She turned to offer Ludmila a respectful curtsey.
“Baroness Zahradnik. Thank you for your welco. You have a beautiful ho; I only wish I could have paid a visit under less alarming circumstances.”
“Oh?” Ludmila smiled, “And what might those ‘alarming circumstances’ be?”
The Guild official held up a stack of docunts in front of her, adjusting her wire-rimd spectacles.
“Several of our affiliate guilds have made certain allegations about your…outlet in the city. Upon further investigation, we discovered a number of problems that are both anomalous and concerning.”
“Who brought forward these allegations?” Ludmila asked.
“We are not obliged to disclose this information,” Miss Hoffman answered. “Rest assured, my lady, our internal investigation has proven these issues to be very much real. The guild mbers here in Warden’s Vale have also confird our findings.”
Ludmila’s gaze went to her assembled subjects. A few of them shrugged in response.
“Please refrain from coercing statents from our mbers, my lady,” Miss Hoffman said.
What did I do?
“I would hear these allegations,” Ludmila said.
“For the ti being, the Guild has two demands. The first is to adhere to the organisation’s regulations when it cos to issuing licences.”
“As far as I know,” Ludmila said, “I have been adhering to your regulations.”
“Your operations indicate otherwise,” the official said as she gestured to the building behind her. “In a word, they are unfair.”
“Unfair?”
“On multiple levels,” Miss Hoffman nodded. “To begin with, artisans here may only work as employees of your chartered companies, through which they must apply for certification by the Guilds.”
“I do not see what is wrong with that.”
The Guild official released an audible sigh.
“It is an uncompetitive practice,” Miss Hoffman told her.
“Why would the Guilds take exception to this when workshop owners in the city effectively do the sa thing?”
“Workshop employees still apply and act as independent entities. They do not run the workshops that they work in – they subcontract work from the workshop owner and have personal workstations.”
“If that is the case,” Ludmila said, “Then my companies create a far more equitable environnt for its employees than any workshop in the city.”
“I cannot comprehend how you can say that,” the Guild official scoffed.
“The employees decide how the company is run,” Ludmila said.
“Yet you own the company,” Miss Hoffman noted. “You can put an end to any activities that you don’t approve of.”
“I would only do that if it was a part of my duty as the ruler of this territory. Every company has its own administrators and affiliated rchants who take care of the business end of things.”
It seed like the obvious way to run a company – at least according to the tenets of her faith. Everyone did what they were supposed to be doing and the organisation prospered as a result.
“You will forgive if this idealistic claim is t with a healthy dose of speculation, Lady Zahradnik,” Miss Hoffman said. “The aristocracy has a proven history of interfering with the Guilds. Rather than argue in circles, however, let us discuss how your operations threaten the economy of the Sorcerous Kingdom.”
Ludmila crossed her arms, trying to figure out what in the world she was referring to. She was doing everything that she could to keep her territorial economy relevant to her people; now, suddenly, what she was doing was a threat to the entire Kingdom.
“Explain,” Ludmila said.
“Everything that you are doing is or is projected to produce inventories that exceed your territory’s ability to absorb,” Miss Hoffman told her. “Furthermore, the excess is exported and impacts markets in other parts of the Sorcerous Kingdom. What you are doing is robbing people of their livelihoods. The Guilds have always carefully regulated industry to ensure that this never becos the case.”
“My fief’s industrial production is relatively tiny compared to the other territories, never mind the city,” Ludmila said.
“Yet seeing what you are doing here, it is readily apparent that it won’t be the case within the next generation. The Guild would prefer to rein in such issues before they can cause too much damage.”
“My people are only doing what they believe is right.”
“Which is another problem,” the Guild official told her. “You appear to be extending exclusive invitations to migrants who worship the Six Great Gods. The abundance of free resources in this territory combined with your religious practices are culminating into a critical issue for the Sorcerous Kingdom.”
Ludmila couldn’t help but roll her eyes.
“Oh, yes,” she said, “the superior quality of our products will surely bring ruin to every land that they touch.”
“This is not a laughing matter, my lady.”
“Then state your case plainly,” Ludmila said. “I am a half-step away from tying you to a log and floating you back down the river.”
The young woman visibly paled. It appeared that Ludmila’s efforts to be more approachable had led people to forget who and what she was. She would have to redy that at so point.
“Everything has to do with the economy, my lady,” Miss Hoffman said. “The Faith of the Six…it doesn’t follow the logic of the markets. Your people are producing goods for the sake of producing them, ignoring the fundantal principles of supply and demand.”
“Normally, people would call that honing one’s craft.”
“Normally,” the Guild official said, “people who are honing their craft do so within their ans. These…‘companies’ you have chartered are less businesses and more studios that you preside over as a the sole patron. Instead of patronising the fine arts, however, you are spending money on mundane craft.”
“Does it not make more sense to support mundane craft than the fine arts?” Ludmila asked.
Her question was t with a dumbfounded stare. Ludmila supposed that her logic was backwards according to the common sense of the region. Many Nobles took pride in the idea that they were keepers of culture and collected pieces of art as a result. Most, however, ca to the understanding that art was rely an expression of culture rather than culture in itself, so art beca more a store of wealth than anything else. She was in no position to do such things, however, and wouldn’t be for the indeterminate future.
Miss Hoffman’s expression shifted to one of exasperation.
“What I am trying to say, my lady, is that your expenditures are unnecessary. More than that, you are ddling in the local economy with your irrational and uncompetitive practices.”
“I fail to understand this assertion about ‘uncompetitive practices’,” Ludmila replied. “You appear to believe that I am fuelling the growth of these companies with personal wealth, but they all have operating budgets that are internally managed.”
“That’s impossible,” Miss Hoffman laughed. “The facilities here far exceed the ans of regular artisans. It is a fact that they would not exist without your support.”
“Investing in economic infrastructure is hardly a strange thing to do for a Noble,” Ludmila noted.
“Referring to this as ‘economic infrastructure’ is a stretch, my lady. Roads, bridges, and harbours do not harm the business of our mbers.”
Does Clara have to deal with this?
In any case, it was getting annoying. The Guilds plainly didn’t like what was going on in Warden’s Vale and they were trying to put an end to it on the premise of protecting their mbers and the economy at large. In reality, however, it was institutional conservatism attempting to crush an upstart. The Guilds tended to get what they wanted because they had a stranglehold on so many industries, so it was safe to assu that they fully expected her to defer to them.
“This discussion does not seem to be getting us anywhere,” Ludmila said. “What is the full extent of the Guilds’ demands?”
Miss Hoffman went through the docunts in her hand, stopping to withdraw a crisp sheet of Noble Paper and clearing her throat.
“First, the thoughtless issue of licences in this fief must co to an end. Even if you refuse to comply, we will not recognise any new artisans operating here, apprentice or otherwise. Their goods, of course, will be similarly blacklisted anywhere in the world that the Guilds operate.”
“What else?” Ludmila asked.
“Secondly, the fraudulent practices which led to the recognition of dozens of mbers by our organisation will be answered with the imdiate expulsion of said individuals by the Guilds.”
Ludmila felt a frown tug at the corner of her lips.
“Fraudulent? What in the world are you talking about?”
“Our associates have drawn attention to the unprecedented rise of several individuals working for your companies. We conducted an investigation at their behest and found the applications to be suspiciously limited in information. Upon my arrival in Warden’s Vale, I discovered that we had been tricked into conferring Master’s status on a group of children! We will not stand for this flouting of our standards.”
“Those children submitted their masterpieces just like anyone else would,” Ludmila said. “Are you implying that the assessnt of your judges was flawed in so way?”
“Of course not,” Miss Hoffman said. “They are all respected senior mbers of their respective guilds. As much as we would love to entertain the notion of a rare prodigy, it is far more likely that the masterpieces of this whole gaggle of ‘prodigies’ were illegitimate submissions.”
“If the Guilds so desire,” Ludmila said, “my artisans will be more than happy to dispel your doubts about their work.”
“You may choose to challenge our ruling,” the Guild official said. “Our mbers are quite busy, however. I’m sure you understand this.”
“Yes, of course. When is the soonest opportunity?”
“The spring after sowing.”
“That is nearly five months from now…”
“It is,” Miss Hoffman nodded. “You should also understand that the candidates awaiting reassessnt will not be allowed to put their marks on any of their goods until their skills are proven.”
“…but they will not be able to sell anything if they do not.”
“Those are the regulations, Lady Zahradnik.”
Ludmila idly entertained the idea of doing more than tying the woman to a log, but it probably wouldn’t change the position of the Guilds.
“Is there anything else?” Ludmila asked.
“Yes, my lady,” Miss Hoffman answered. “It has co to our attention that marriages are being arranged without our approval. As a Noble, you have the right to manage the family affairs of your rural tenants, but the Guilds have always done this for urban centres. This is for the good of the economy, of course: unregulated unions only lead to chaos.”
“Marriage in Warden’s Vale is an institution ordained by the Temples of the Six,” Ludmila told her.
“That may be so,” Miss Hoffman replied, “but guild mbers who choose to marry without the approval of their guild will have their mberships revoked and their work blacklisted.”
This is getting increasingly ridiculous.
She crossed her arms as the Guild official went through a long list of things that she could and could not do. There was no legal precedent for any of it, but it didn’t matter: they held so much influence over industry and urban society that they had beco self-appointed ‘protectors’ of the economy. Now, she was being delivered an ultimatum long before the Sorcerous Kingdom was ready to oust them from their entrenched position.
“Oh, and one last thing, Lady Zahradnik.”
Ludmila looked up from her thoughts with a questioning look. In the Guild official’s hand was an article of clothing that Ludmila had just recently approved for sale in her city outlet.
“You cannot sell items like these, my lady,” Miss Hoffman told her.
“Why not?” Ludmila asked.
“Because they are a dire threat to the economy,” the woman answered.
“A dire threat?” Ludmila furrowed her brow, “Unless I am mistaken, Miss Hoffman, you are holding a blouse.”
“It is not just any blouse,” Miss Hoffman replied. “You know that as well as I do.”
“I do, and it is precisely the reason why I approved them for sale. They are self-cleaning items that are impervious to the wear and tear of everyday activities. Even if they do get damaged sohow, they can be magically repaired for no material cost so long as they are not completely destroyed.”
“Exactly. That’s why you cannot sell these.”
Her gaze went from the shirt in Miss Hoffman’s hand to the Guild official’s completely serious expression.
“Miss Hoffman,” Ludmila said, “you will forgive for not being able to understand why anything I ntioned is a ‘dire threat to the economy’.”
Miss Hoffman took on a long-suffering tone.
“It’s obvious, isn’t it? You’re selling an item that lasts forever barring so catastrophic event. An artisan cannot make a living selling things that only need to be purchased once. Markets that distribute goods of this nature will inevitably stagnate and die.”
“I see.”
“Thank you for your cooperation, Lady Zahradnik,” the Guild official smiled and turned to leave. “Now, I believe the next ship is departing in–”
“Stop.”
The woman froze in place.
“I never said I would comply with your demands,” Ludmila said.
“S-Surely you don’t an that, my lady…”
“I do. I have long considered the problematic nature of this ‘economy’ that you constantly refer to and our discussion has only served to strengthen my convictions on the matter. I understand that you are rely a representative of the Guilds and that your organisation believes that it is working in the best interests of its people, so I hope you will understand that I am similarly acting in the best interests of mine.”
“But how can that be?!” Miss Hoffman said, “Do you even understand what you’re saying? This is–”
“War.” Ludmila smiled coldly, “In a manner of speaking. I pray that the Guilds will keep things civil, for your own sakes.”
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