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With This Ring (Young Justice SI) (Thread Fourteen)

Looking at the titles, we had 'Prep Time' and are now starting 'Wait Time,' I wonder if the next one (which will clearly be a while, but now is when I'm thinking about it) will be 'Go Time.'
 
The SI's feeling is that they'd have to be good at it, particularly if he's providing the orange. They also have to be able to function around Anti-Life broadcasters, survive fighting their way to an Anti-Life broadcaster, not be evil and be reliable. If they just wanted someone who could use it at all just about anyone would do.
SI could fight his way there with Orange, then provide the Yellow and have someone else provide the Orange, and that's granting that one person can't provide both. Kon or Mitchel can fight their way to the broadcaster, aren't evil, and are reliable. Hell, they probably both have enough experience with fear at this point with their experience wrangling people under Antilife, though it's reasonable for the SI not to know that.
 
War Mastered (part 1)
3rd Sigmarzeit 2512
Early Morning


The herald hesitates slightly as we reach the door to what appears to be a small dining room, then nods to the footmen manning the doors. The one on the left knocks sharply, then they grasp the handles and open the door. The herald marches in, straight-backed, and steps aside to half turn and face the doorway.

"Announcing Sir Paolo, Knight of the Orange Lantern."

I walk in behind him,-. Oh, for-.

I make eye contact with His Majesty Karl Franz I Holswig-Schliestein, and no one else because the only other occupants of the room are a couple of servants serving as waiters and the looming figures of his Reiksguard bodyguard up against the back wall. He smiles faintly and gives his eyes a small roll.

Well, at least he gets it.

I approach to what I judge to be a reasonable distance and then bow at the waist.

"Your Majesty."

"Rise, Sir Paolo." A small nod and the herald backs out of the room and the footmen close the doors behind him. The Emperor then motions to the seat a short way down the table from his own seat. "Please, join me."

"Thank you, your majesty."

I walk over to the-.

A servant pulls the chair out for me.

O… Kay..? I… Sit down, braced, but apparently we're allowed to organise our own napkins.

The Emperor's smile broadens. "Not the arrangement you have in your lands in Bretonnia?"

"Even with the recent expansion, it's not even a town yet. We don't have the people for me to have an arrangement like this, and using glowing daemons made people uncomfortable."

"And the beastwomen aren't house trained?"

"No, they… Are, with just a few false starts, but they kept making it a competition to serve whoever's in charge, and… It didn't work. And Hierarch Mael of the Cult of Taal isn't keen on the whole 'living inside buildings' thing and I'm trying to avoid having more gods angry with me."

He nods. "A sound avenue to take."

"Forgive me for asking, your majesty, but why am I.. here?"

He offers me a rueful smile. "It isn't usual for notable individuals such as yourself to give reports in open court. Once they've demonstrated a certain level of reliability and trustworthiness, I generally prefer a more informal environment."

I look around at the four plate-armoured knights and eight servants of other types, and the large oil paintings and wall hangings which decorate the walls. And then up at the currently unlit chandelier, and the frieze decorating the ceiling just beyond it.

He follows my gaze for a moment, then smiles again.

"Well. I am the Emperor."

"Can't argue with that. What did you want to hear about?"

"How are things going with the canal?"

"It is now sailable, so long as you only want to sail something the size of a punt."

"Already?"

I shrug. "The workforce is large and made up of skeletons and animated statues. They don't need rest, food or water. The real bottleneck was getting enough intelligent undead to coordinate them. Queen Khalida has dealt with that by making alliances with other Tomb Kings along the route, though that… Ah, leaves open the possibility that they may become 'confused' and do something regrettable later, but... We.. judged the extra speed was worth the risk."

"Have the elves raised any objection?"

Which is a diplomatic way of saying 'arrowed everyone to death'.

"No, but I'm not sure that they know about it. It's not easy to send spies into a lifeless desert, and there aren't really any merchants in Nehekharan cities to disguise the presence of nosy people."

"That will change."

"Yes, but it's not an especially popular posting, Ulthuan doesn't have the resources that would be required to invade and occupy the whole of Nehekhara to stop it, and… Quite a lot of Ulthuanian princes and princesses owe me for their newly conceived heirs. Not enough to actually thank me, but probably enough to abstain on a vote. Even if the garrison commander of the Fortress of Dawn would like to take aggressive action, they're not going to get any support."

"And on the other end?"

"The Pirate Princess didn't take the deal. I'm afraid that extreme measures will most likely be necessary."

"Assassination?"

"Throwing the island into an ocean trench. The only issue is that I'm not sure what that will do to the currents around the Tilean coast." I shake my head. "While it might be possible to put a lot of the sailors into service in more legitimate roles, I'm not happy about the… Easy transition between armed merchantmen and outright pirates. I've provisionally marked a few months in my diary after the expected completion date of the canal for eliminating all pirates in the region who attack ships using it, but frankly pre-empting it by destroying the island and everyone on it would probably be more efficient."

He shakes his head. "Scour the island if you must -the navy's pressgangs will have to look elsewhere for their men- but do not… 'Throw the island into an ocean trench'."

"As you command." I nod. "Prince Lorenzo might want to take possession of it as a naval dock once the current inhabitants have been culled. And there's little point in building the canal if I end up wrecking all the harbours on this side."

"And what will you do next? Concentrate on the road network?"

"No, after that comes the next stage of canal building: the Estalia bypass."

He hesitates, his eyes briefly moving aside as he considers my meaning. "A canal through the Irrana Mountains? It would save weeks of sailing at the very least, and avoid exposure to the storms coming off the Great Ocean. But the Black Marshes have their own inhabitants that may threaten your work."

"Yeah, Skavenblight. I'll probably end up destroying that. Depending on its elevation I might flood it, otherwise it'll be orbital bombardment. I'll need to speak with Princess Dolchellata of Miragliano before work starts, though given all the extra trade they'd be getting if I'm successful I doubt that she'll complain."

"That would be the diplomatic approach." He frowns faintly. "I believe that the Princess is widowed?"

I nod. "Yes. The late Prince Borgio died nine years ago, and she's ruling as their son's regent. I assume that her control is sufficiently good that she doesn't feel the need for an internal marriage, and that her city's position is secure enough that she hasn't made a marriage alliance."

Or more likely, no one felt like braving the wrath of her four-times-widowed sister.

"Anyway, once that's done I can focus on the roads. High Loremaster Teclis threatened to ask his brother to check my working on the logistics, and, um. I'd rather that didn't happen."

"Yes, I've met Prince Tyrion and I can well understand your reservation." He looks away for a moment, thinking about something. "I know that you've been travelling, but have you been able to keep up with news of the Empire?"

I shake my head. "Not really. I check for major invasions every few days but things looked relatively quiet. Is there a problem?"

"Some minor skirmishes between Ostland and Talabecland. I fear that I'm going to have to intervene before things escalate."

I nod. "Well, if you need my assistance with anything, I'm happy to help."

"I may. Tell me, Sir Paolo, you know of Princess Dolchellata's family but I know nothing of your own familial status. May we discuss the matter?"
 
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"Yeah, Skavenblight. I'll probably end up destroying that. Depending on its elevation I might flood it, otherwise it'll be orbital bombardment. I'll need to speak with Princess Dolchellata of Miragliano before work starts, though given all the extra trade they'd be getting it I'm successful I doubt that she'll complain."
The first wouldn't work.

The second would get you fucked by a tractorbeam capable of moving the moon.
 
"I may. Tell me, Sir Paolo, you know of Princess Dolchellata's family but I know nothing of your own familial status. May we discuss the matter?"
"Even if I didn't already have a healthy romance, which I do, Mousillon neighbors Lyonesse."

"I suppose they'd monopolize any potential for a political match, wouldn't they?"
 
3rd Sigmarzeit 2512
Early Morning


The herald hesitates slightly as we reach the door to what appears to be a small dining room, then nods to the footmen manning the doors. The one on the left knocks sharply, then they grasp the handles and open the door. The herald marches in, straight backed, and steps aside to half turn and face the doorway.

"Announcing Sir Paolo, Knight of the Orange Lantern."
Good to see he's actually settled on a local name. One different enough from his own to use it freely, but similar enough that he'll answer to it without thinking about it. So, then, back to the Warhammer universe (Circa 4th edition or so, right?)

I walk in behind him,-. Oh, for-.

I make eye contact with His Majesty Karl Franz I Holswig-Schliestein, and no one else because the only other occupants of the room are a couple of servants serving as waiters and the looming figures of his Reiksguard bodyguard up against the back wall. He smiles faintly and gives his eyes a small roll.
Ah, Karl. One of the most iconic emperors of the Empire. Or more accurately, the only one to actually get rules proper on the battlefield.

Well, at least he gets it.

I approach to what I judge to be a reasonable distance and then bow at the waist.
Got to love a ruler as disinterested in the pageantry of rulership as you are, eh? But appearances must be maintained...

"Your Majesty."

"Rise, Sir Paolo." A small nod and the herald backs out of the room and the footmen close the doors behind him. The Emperor then motions to the seat a short way down the table from his own seat. "Please, join me."
Pretty trusting. But then, Paolo's proven his trustworthiness, hasn't he?

"Thank you, your majesty."

I walk over to the-.

A servant pulls the chair out for me.
Ah... Hooray, footmen.

O… Kay..? I… Sit down, braced, but apparently we're allowed to organise our own napkins.

The Emperor's smile broadens. "Not the arrangement you have in your lands in Bretonnia?"
Oh, I doubt there's anything set up like this yet.

"Even with the recent expansion, it's not even a town yet. We don't have the people for me to have an arrangement like this, and using glowing daemons made people uncomfortable."

"And the beastwomen aren't house trained?"
I hope they at least learned to wear clothes that cover... Whatever the Humans feel embarrassed about.

"No, they… Are, with just a few false starts, but they kept making it a competition to serve whoever's in charge, and… It didn't work. And Hierarch Mael of the Cult of Taal isn't keen on the whole 'living inside buildings' thing and I'm trying to avoid having more gods angry with me."

He nods. "A sound avenue to take."
Especially when those Gods can send down angry Daemons to chastise you directly.

"Forgive me for asking, your majesty, but why am I.. here?"

He offers me a rue smile. "It isn't usual for notable individuals such as yourself to give reports in open court. Once they've demonstrated a certain level of reliability and trustworthiness, I generally prefer a more informal environment."
In other words, you know well enough when to let people get on with what they're doing without micro-managing them.

I look around at the four plate-armoured knights and eight servants of other types, and the large oil paintings and wall hangings which decorate the walls. And then up at the currently unlit chandelier, and the frieze decorating the ceiling just beyond it.

He follows my gaze for a moment, then smiles again.
It serves to dazzle the nobles, I suppose. But for intelligent men...

"Well. I am the Emperor."

"Can't argue with that. What did you want to hear about?"
...It's naught but background noise.

"How are things going with the canal?"

"It is now sailable, so long as you only want to sail something the size of a punt."

"Already?"
Let me guess: When your workers don't need to rest or eat, you can do some impressive things.

I shrug. "The workforce is large and made up of skeletons and animated statues. They don't need rest, food or water. The real bottleneck was getting enough intelligent undead to coordinate them. Queen Khalida has dealt with that by making alliances with other Tomb Kings along the route, though that… Ah, leaves open the possibility that they may become 'confused' and do something regrettable later, but... We.. judged the extra speed was worth the risk."
And hopefully the threat of her chastisement can keep them from getting 'distracted'.

"Have the elves raised any objection?"

Which is a diplomatic way of saying 'arrowed everyone to death'.
Ah, Wood Elves. I suppose as long as it doesn't disrupt their forest, they're cool with it. :confused: ...Never mind, I forgot about the Ulthuan angle. Still, it's not like they have any less 'Stay off mah lawn!' energy than their arboreal cousins.

"No, but I'm not sure that they know about it. It's not easy to send spies into a lifeless desert, and there aren't really any merchants in Nehekharan cities to disguise the presence of nosy people."

"That will change."
Especially nosy people with pointed ears.

"Yes, but it's not an especially popular posting, Ulthuan doesn't have the resources that would be required to invade and occupy the whole of Nehekhara to stop it, and… Quite a lot of Ulthuanian princes and princesses owe me for their newly conceived heirs. Not enough to actually thank me, but probably enough to abstain on a vote. Even if the garrison commander of the Fortress of Dawn would like to take aggressive action, they're not going to get any support."
...Oh, right. That was a thing Paolo assisted with.

"And on the other end?"

"The Pirate Princess didn't take the deal. I'm afraid that extreme measures will most likely be necessary."

"Assassination?"
Ah, Sartosa, the Warhammer World's equivalent to Sicily. Home of pirates, mercenaries, privateers and more pirates.

"Throwing the island into an ocean trench. The only issue is that I'm not sure what that will do to the currents around the Tilean coast." I shake my head. "While it might be possible to put a lot of the sailors into service in more legitimate roles, I'm not happy about the… Easy transition between armed merchantmen and outright pirates. I've provisionally marked a few months in my diary after the expected completion date of the canal for eliminating all pirates in the region who attack ships using it, but frankly pre-empting it by destroying the island and everyone on it would probably be more efficient."
Well, a show of force in true Orange Lantern tradition would probably be quite effective... For a year or two.

He shakes his head. "Scour the island if you must -the navy's pressgangs will have to look elsewhere for their men- but do not… 'Throw the island into an ocean trench'."

"As you command." I nod. "Prince Lorenzo might want to take possession of it as a naval dock once the current inhabitants have been culled. And there's little point in building the canal if I end up wrecking all the harbours on this side."
Yes, the less rearranging of the 'landscape', the better in that respect.

"And what will you do next? Concentrate on the road network?"

"No, after that comes the next stage of canal building: the Estalia bypass."
Estalia, equivalent of the Iberian Peninsula. And about as wild a land as the rest.

He hesitates, his eyes briefly moving aside as he considers my meaning. "A canal through the Irrana Mountains? It would save weeks of sailing at the very least, and avoid exposure to the storms coming off the Great Ocean. But the Black Marshes have their own inhabitants that may threaten your work."

"Yeah, Skavenblight. I'll probably end up destroying that. Depending on its elevation I might flood it, otherwise it'll be orbital bombardment. I'll need to speak with Princess Dolchellata of Miragliano before work starts, though given all the extra trade they'd be getting it I'm successful I doubt that she'll complain."
Skavenblight. Yes, that'll be liking sticking your dick in an anthill. Only more painful. And if the Council of Thirteen get wind of your plans... I expect assassins will become a regular sight in your life.

"That would be the diplomatic approach." He frowns faintly. "I believe that the Princess is widowed?"

I nod. "Yes. The late Prince Borgio died nine years ago, and she's ruling as their son's regent. I assume that her control is sufficiently good that she doesn't feel the need for an internal marriage, and that her city's position is secure enough that she hasn't made a marriage alliance."
Tricky situation, isn't it?

Or more likely, no one felt like braving the wrath of her four-times-widowed sister.

"Anyway, once that's done I can focus on the roads. High Loremaster Teclis threatened to ask his brother to check my working on the logistics, and, um. I'd rather that didn't happen."
Boy, just name-dropping all the famous folk of the era, eh? :p But you are talking to the ruler of the largest human nation in the west.

"Yes, I've met Prince Tyrion and I can well understand your reservation." He looks away for a moment, thinking about something. "I know that you've been travelling, but have you been able to keep up with news of the Empire?"

I shake my head. "Not really. I check for major invasions every few days but things looked relatively quiet. Is there a problem?"
And such is the state of the world that that's necessary.

"Some minor skirmishes between Ostland and Talabecland. I fear that I'm going to have to intervene before things escalate."

I nod. "Well, if you need my assistance with anything, I'm happy to help."

"I may. Tell me, Sir Paolo, you know of Princess Dolchellata's family but I know nothing of your own familial status. May we discuss the matter?"
Joy. This is something that'll come out of the blue to Paolo, won't it?

He's come a long way on such a short time, hasn't he? Hobnobbing with Emperors and Archmages. Planning a transcontinental canal system. And all manner of shenanigans off-screen, no doubt. And now Karl's feeling out the possibility of a political marriage to some royal cousin, eh? Such is the life of a driven man in a mad world. Especially when that man has the power to change things.
 
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Didn't he propose to Queen Khalida? Or am I remembering that wrong.
He asked if she was able to marry - due to her various oaths and positions. Then just left it there, without an answer from her, or really explaining why he was asking.

Either he was enquiring on behalf of someone else, or her answer was no.
 
3rd Sigmarzeit 2512
Early Morning
Ah, easy mode Paul.

Honestly surprised he hasn't finished 'I Win' buttoning the physical threats on that world yet. The pirates might have been beneath his notice but turning Skavenblight into a crater seems like it should have been more of a priority. And it isn't like anything they have is a threat or even a meaningful obstacle to him.
 
The herald marches in, straight backed, and steps aside to half turn and face the doorway.
'straight-backed'?
He offers me a rue smile.
'rueful smile'?
I'll need to speak with Princess Dolchellata of Miragliano before work starts, though given all the extra trade they'd be getting it I'm successful I doubt that she'll complain."
'if I'm successful'
 
Ah, Wood Elves. I suppose as long as it doesn't disrupt their forest, they're cool with it.
No, High Elves. They aren't any less violent, they just hug slightly fewer trees.
Skavenblight. Yes, that'll be liking sticking your dick in an anthill. Only more painful. And if the Council of Thirteen get wind of your plans... I expect assassins will become a regular sight in your life.
They'd try, but it's a bit of a treck. The under-empire doesn't extend that far, it's hard keeping the water out of the tunnels and skaven are terrible sailors.
After double checking, I found that he was previously called Paol. Is he called both, or is this a mistake?
That's why the Herald wasn't sure. They've recently had Tileans in the palace to talk about road-building and they use the Tilean form of his name: Paolo. Paol is the Bretonnian form and he's clearly not Bretonnian, so...
Didn't he propose to Queen Khalida? Or am I remembering that wrong.
They have an understanding, but nothing's going to get formalised until some of his more extreme pledges have been fulfilled. Since that could be more than a human lifetime away, she wouldn't be all that bothered.
'straight-backed'?
'rueful smile'?
'if I'm successful'
Thank you, corrected.
 
Aw, the Skaven are my favorites. Not great neighbors, admittedly. Trying to wipe them out will really undercut that "not pissing off any more gods" plan, though. The Great Horned Rat might not be quite on par with the four main Chaos gods, but he's still no slouch.
 
Trying to wipe them out will really undercut that "not pissing off any more gods" plan, though. The Great Horned Rat might not be quite on par with the four main Chaos gods, but he's still no slouch.
The other Chaos Gods think that the Horned Rat sucks. Archaon turned down his blessing. The Great Hornd Rat ate the entire skaven species.
 
A thought that might become relevant, both for Paul (Paol/Paolo?), should he indeed be getting hitched soon, as the Emperor seems to wish, and for all the newly fertile elves: how exactly does a hereditary monarchy work if one or several of their members are clinically immortal? I understand the utility of having someone to fill daddy's seat in case he accidentally does snuff it at some point, but what happens if the heir apparent grows up and gets ready to inherit and then… doesn't? Especially if, as might hypothetically be the case if Paul (Paol/Paolo?) is persuaded to take on one of the Empire's noble ladies, who, as a rule, do not share his longevity (I think. Could be wrong, I'm not so familiar with Warhammer to profess one hundred percent certainty on the matter.), the resulting offspring can expect to never succeed their progenitor during their lifetime. And I'm assuming that propriety and coultural inertia would demand such an offspring to be produced, regardless of its necessity.

Because the only ways I can think of to still maintain the trappings of such a system in that case would be to either divide and sub-divide the inheritance in question, halving each resulting holding again and again for each new generation until the lands are a patchwork of tiny micro-fiefdoms, or to be ever expansionist, conquering ever new land to ensure there is some to inherit. Both seem to be hold similar long term non-viability.
 
didn't OL leave some gateways to Hades on other worlds, so alien cultures can give their dead an afterlife? why can't OL just teleport to one of those to enter Hades and get Melinoe?
 
didn't OL leave some gateways to Hades on other worlds, so alien cultures can give their dead an afterlife? why can't OL just teleport to one of those to enter Hades and get Melinoe?
They aren't gates for mortals, they are for spirits. Far fewer safety precautions. I think they look more like temples or monuments, depending on the local culture, not literal arches.
 
A thought that might become relevant, both for Paul (Paol/Paolo?), should he indeed be getting hitched soon, as the Emperor seems to wish, and for all the newly fertile elves: how exactly does a hereditary monarchy work if one or several of their members are clinically immortal? I understand the utility of having someone to fill daddy's seat in case he accidentally does snuff it at some point, but what happens if the heir apparent grows up and gets ready to inherit and then… doesn't? Especially if, as might hypothetically be the case if Paul (Paol/Paolo?) is persuaded to take on one of the Empire's noble ladies, who, as a rule, do not share his longevity (I think. Could be wrong, I'm not so familiar with Warhammer to profess one hundred percent certainty on the matter.), the resulting offspring can expect to never succeed their progenitor during their lifetime. And I'm assuming that propriety and coultural inertia would demand such an offspring to be produced, regardless of its necessity.

Because the only ways I can think of to still maintain the trappings of such a system in that case would be to either divide and sub-divide the inheritance in question, halving each resulting holding again and again for each new generation until the lands are a patchwork of tiny micro-fiefdoms, or to be ever expansionist, conquering ever new land to ensure there is some to inherit. Both seem to be hold similar long term non-viability.
That actually caused a major problem when the dead kings and queens of Nehekhara were woken up, until Setra woke up and told them all to keep the noise down.

The position of Emperor is elected, and the current Emperor can be removed from office by a majority vote. Doesn't happen often, but it has happened. Civil war works, too.

A grand total of one Phoenix King has died peacefully in his bed.
 
My favorite alt-Paul coming back at the time the Team become major characters again? Hell yes!
 
And it isn't like anything they have is a threat or even a meaningful obstacle to him.
You mean other then stuff like the Warpstone Tractor Beam that could utterly annihilate him even in orbit.


They'd try, but it's a bit of a treck. The under-empire doesn't extend that far,
And by not far he means thousands of miles.

Under-empire-map.jpg


it's hard keeping the water out of the tunnels and skaven are terrible sailors.
Actually it's super easy to keep water out of tunnels, barely an inconvenience really.

That's because tunnel systems aren't just downward passages but instead snaking winding things that create their own pressure zones.
 
War Mastered (part 2)
3rd Sigmarzeit 2512
Early Morning


"Yes, I… Mostly try to keep busy so that I don't think about them."

But he's not talking about my family back on Earth. My eyes light up as I look around, staring through the walls and looking for-.

Ah.

"My sister had just gotten married. My father was approaching retirement… He taught biology in college, and-" I smile faintly "-you can get some pretty odd fixations growing up with a biology teacher for a father."

"I thought that the air smelled a little less pungent around you. I take it you were lectured extensively on the danger of bad airs?"

It's been a while since I read Genevieve Undead, but I seem to remember Karl-Franz's heir being his son. I don't specifically remember whether it was mentioned that Karl-Franz was married or not. Turns out that he isn't, but he's in a long term relationship with a woman with whom he's had two illegitimate children. I don't really know what's going on there. I mean, she lives in the palace, no one's going to take the idea that he's still on the marriage market seriously. His actual heir is his sister Isabella's son, Wolfgang Holswig-Abenauer.

Of course, he's hardly her only child.

"Really, the smell is more of a side-effect of the actual source of danger than a threat to health itself. I've hired a team of dwarf engineers to try and build a sewage system in my village, but it's actually quite hard that close to the sea."

Karl-Franz nods. "Townsmen here pay night soil collectors." He chuckles. "When they don't just chuck their chamber pots into the streets."

I wince.

"You have something better in your homeland?"

"After the late Queen Victoria's husband died of typhoid fever, she sponsored some major efforts in improving sanitation across the country. The dwarfs know far more about building underground tunnels than me, but they actually hadn't considered the U-bend or the flush. Please; once my village is finished, come and have a look at it. I'm trying to turn it into a model that other places can replicate, and… If you like it, I'd be happy to re-plumb this whole palace for you."

"Hah! That's the strangest bribe anyone's ever offered me. I see what you mean about your father. But… Your parents. Did they have a marriage arranged for you? I assume that your sister is your senior."

"No, two years younger. And no, we don't really do it like that. I mean, we used to, but these days even amongst the peerage, young people are mostly left to organise things themselves."

"And had you?"

The distraction didn't work. Not surprising given that his niece is in the next room. No idea why he's trying to match her with.. me.

"No. Which turns out to have been a sound judgement, given that I'm here. I hate to think that I could have been forced to abandon a wife or children."

One of the things that I keep missing is the low speed of information transfer on this planet. I see newspapers and I assume that I'm on a world that has the telegraph at least. But it's not. He doesn't know that I have a lover, or that I'm… I've got some sort of understanding with Queen Khalida. Why would he? I haven't told anyone in Altdorf, or spent significant time with either anywhere where someone reporting to him could spy on them. He only knows about the beastwomen because I had to get him to sign off on the Amber College assisting me.

There has just about been enough time for a ship to sail from Cathay with news about the diggings on the east coast of Nehekhara, so he might have confirmation about that. He had the report from High King Thorgrim Grudgebearer and multiple reports about the various daemons I've hunted down. So he knows that I'm capable from people whose word he trusts. But I have no significant connections. Raw power is all I bring to the table, and I've made it clear that I'll bring that anyway. The Old World road network is my second highest priority.

So.. he.. wants a threat? Bound to him by marriage? Does he not understand how little I want to rule places? If that was what I wanted I'd have gone to the Border Princes, not stayed in a small Bretonnian village.

"Sir Paolo? Are you well?"

"Ah, sorry." I shake my head. "I was just trying to work out why your niece is in the next room." A slight reaction from him, more curiosity than concern. "I'm not very good at this sort of thing."

He turns his head and nods at a servant, who bows and leaves the room in her direction.

"I wanted to introduce you over breakfast."

"With a view to..?"

"I have ambassadors in the courts of each of the Elector Counts. It is seldom possible to gather more than a few of us in any one place, so virtually all of our communications happen indirectly. You may be able to fly to any of our capitals when you like, but we cannot similarly contact you. Usually my ambassadors are distant cousins, but given your significance and the lack of existing ties, I felt that someone a little closer would be more appropriate."

"So she would be your ambassador to my little village?"

"The village is incidental; I want to be certain that I can reach the man who can face Greater Daemons in the field and vanquish them."

"Alright. Actually, I was thinking that a big get-together of rulers might be a good idea. Considering that the roads will be going through the territories of multiple countries."

"I think that you make for an excellent envoy. What could be accomplished by meeting directly that could not be achieved with a sealed letter?"

"That's fine for King Thorgrim and King Louen, but… I was thinking of spreading things a little more widely. You know that I am on good terms with Queen Khalida."

"An Undead."

"That's the point. Nehekharan rulers think of the Empire as it was in Sigmar's time. They don't really understand the improvements in magic, in artifice or in industry that your people have made. Entertaining her in person could change that as well as establishing a personal rapport."

"And who else?"

"Ah… King Erik Redaxe."

The Emperor sits up slightly. "He still lives? I heard the tale of how he traded the Duke of Marienburg to my great grandfather when I was a boy."

"He's not a young man any longer, but he still rules the land north of Kislev. Still favours the aesir over the Chaos Gods."

"He raided Ulthuan. The elves don't like you enough to forget that."

"I'm not asking them to like him. Just… Understand that it's in their interests to negotiate for him to unleash his reavers against the Dark Elves instead of them, or to hire them to fight orcs rather than fight them and the orcs." I shrug. "Heck, he may not even want to come. I didn't want to bother asking him if even you weren't prepared to talk to him."

"If he and Boris Bokha are in the same room, one of them will not leave it alive."

"It would need to be handled delicately."

"Delicately." He exhales. "I though you were against piracy."

"I am. But if he agrees to limit his peoples' actions in exchange for mercenary contracts, they won't be pirates any longer. If he doesn't, then he's had his chance. I could even explain the concept of shipping insurance to him."

"I think-."

The door opens, and a well-but-not-ostentatiously dressed young woman walks in, followed close behind by servants bearing trays of breakfast foods. Fruit, fresh rolls, bacon and sausages. Karl Franz stands, and I do as well.

"Sir Paolo, my niece, the lady Richilde Holswig-Abenauer."

I bow my head. "A pleasure to meet you, I'm sure."

She smiles-. I don't know. Maybe I've been spoiled between a elf and a woman with a custom-crafted face blessed by a goddess, but honestly? She looks kind of plain. Slightly short, shoulder length hair brown and straight… The only things that draws my attention is her genuine curiosity about me.

She curtsies. "Good morning, Sir Paolo." A servant pulls out her seat and she sits, prompting the Emperor and I to do so as well. "Uncle Karl has been telling me about your plans for a road network. Tell me, how do you intend to maintain it once it is built?"

I take a draft plan out of subspace and put it down next to my plate.

"A combination of road tolls and magic drawn from the network. In Tilea, it was the responsibility of the military to build and maintain roads, and I think…"
 
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She curtsies. "Good morning, Sir Paolo." A servant pulls out her seat and she sits, prompting the Emperor and I to do so as well. "Uncle Karl has been telling me about your plans for a road network. Tell me, how do you intent to maintain it once it is built?"

I take a draft plan out of subspace and put it down next to my plate.

"A combination of road tolls and magic drawn from the network. In Tilea, it was the responsibility of the military to build and maintain roads, and I think…"
Welp, he's doomed.

Because it looks like the Emperor brought out the big guns. A woman who can actually keep up with Paolo's rampant desire to build things.
 
She smiles-. I don't know. Maybe I've been spoiled between a elf and a woman with a custom-crafted face blessed by a goddess, but honestly? She looks kind of plain. Slightly short, shoulder length hair brown and straight… The only things that draws my attention is her genuine curiosity about me.

She curtsies. "Good morning, Sir Paolo." A servant pulls out her seat and she sits, prompting the Emperor and I to do so as well. "Uncle Karl has been telling me about your plans for a road network. Tell me, how do you intent to maintain it once it is built?"

I take a draft plan out of subspace and put it down next to my plate.

"A combination of road tolls and magic drawn from the network. In Tilea, it was the responsibility of the military to build and maintain roads, and I think…"
Oh dear, his one weakness, girls that engage with him on his niche nerd hyper-obsessions.

But seriously, I don't think she could have made a better first impression. You go, girl.
 
No. Which turns out to have been a sound judgement

Yep me too. Totally not married because I'll be isekaied any day now.

I'll just be out back, poking the Truck-kun in my yard with a stick.
And how in the hell did I just now realise I actually have a Truck-kun

Shit Truck-kun is actually a TARDIS and has a perception filter, but feeds like a Weeping angel

Don't blink. Don't even blink. Blink and you're dead. They are fast, faster than you can believe. Don't turn your back, don't look away, and don't blink
The touch of an Angel hurls their victim back in time – allowing the Angel to feast on the energy of their unlived days
 

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