Rastislav
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Arc 8 Chapter LXIV: The Staging
🕑 Added 2025-01-09 16:50:57 +0000 UTC(General POV)
Two days after the first meeting of the newly elected Hortator's council, a quartet of figures found themselves walking through the heavily guarded gates of Old Ebonheart, all of them drawing salutes and nods from the guards as they passed.
"This place feels like a deathtrap." Almeril Faren mutters, his eyes rapidly scanning the near overcrowded walls.
The elf closest to him, clad in colors of House Dagoth unlike Faren's Redoran heraldry, shrugs "They got their loins in a twist about Boss getting assassinated or something." He shakes his head "Personally I'd feel sorry for the assassins."
"One would think you would be thankful to do less work, Lord Davos." The armored Dunmer wearing the same colors as himself chuckles "Might as well use this time to rest, gods know we will not be getting the opportunity again any time soon."
"Oh shove it Varen" Davos rolls his eyes "You just want to slack off."
"What can I say" The Captain of the Sworn Mer shrugs "I do not find standing around and doing fuck all all that interesting."
The sole human amongst them grunts "Much prefer not being in one place either."
"You are a scout, Furius." Davos deadpans.
The man simply nods, causing the poor Mer to roll his eyes.
"It is a solemn duty" Almeril Faren states seriously "Not all our work is supposed to be enjoyable."
Furius simply ingores him while Varen raises his hands placatingly "And I am not saying I refuse to do it, just that I will take the opportunity when presented."
The Redoran shakes his head and says nothing.
"Great" Davos scoffs playfully "Now you made him pout."
Almeril twitches but doesn't otherwise react.
Deciding to shift the topic, Davos asks "Anyway, you and Oren had your bet again?"
"We did." Varen grins "My boys got one over his so now he has to organize camp and they get latrine duty."
Davos exhales amusedly "Honestly I get that it gets boring bu-"
"Hear ye, hear ye!" A voice interrupts their conversation as they pass by the town square, all of them turning to see a small crowd surrounding a town crier "Our glorious Hortator has announced his first decree!"
"Oh this will be fun" Davos mutters.
The crier goes on "Under the wisdom of the Good Daedra, our blessed leader has ordered that all Mer willing and not currently taken by other duties are hereby granted the right to claim arable land in their own name! No taxes shall be levied on them for ten years and interest free loans are to be provided so that you may all make an honest living!" He clears his throat "Make note that you may not claim more land than you can reasonably exploit, and that you will be obligated to sell half your produce at reasonable price!"
A beat passes and murmurs begin to spread throughout the crowd.
But being a paid professional, the crier simply goes on to repeat "Hear ye, hear ye!"
"Bold." Furius is the first to break the silence amongst the four officers "Too bold."
Davos chuckles at this "That does sound like him."
The Imperial gives the elf a long look "You do realize no reasonable noble will tolerate this loss in power, Dagoth is going to be swimming in assassins in a blink."
Surprisingly, it is Almeril who reacts with a chuckle "This is not Cyrodiil, my friend."
Furius' eyebrows raise "What do you mean?"
"A Hortator's authority is absolute." The Redoran answers simply "The title is meant to be given in times of great strife and need and as thankful as I am for the deeds of Lord Dagoth, simply blessing the land is not enough to bring our people away from their lethargy."
Frowning, Furius turns to Davos with a questioning look.
"He is right" The Dunmer shrugs "Boss is now everyone's Boss, and if they say anything they will end up like that Indoril cunt" He frowns "What was his name again?"
All three of his companions collectively shrug.
Snorting, Davos shakes his head "So yeah, don't worry about it, he can deal with some uppity idiots."
Thus satisfied, the quartet continued on their walk, passing by numerous groups of elves either carrying around supplies, enjoying a break between drills, or simply attempting to continue with their normal lives despite all the ruckus.
It was not by mere coincidence that they soon approached an empty strip of land within the city, a place once holding a decrepit warehouse now deconstructed and the land reassigned to be used by nearly a hundred artisans and half as many engineers currently working wood and metal to make compact and maneuverable field artillery.
Furius was the first to notice their uniqueness, being that the Legion always had siege equipment close at hand "Those scorpios are smaller than they should be."
Almeril nodded along but soon frowned "They are using metal limbs and cranks."
"Pretty compact as well." Varen nodded along.
Deciding he had let them speculate long enough, Davos interjects "Boss wanted to really hammer home his whole 'rapid victory' plan, so he ordered hundreds of the little things. Supposedly, they should scythe through Argonian field fortifications and formations with ease."
"Hm" Furius grunted a vaguely approving noise and nodded.
And it was then that two figures detached from a group of artisans and engineers and approached them, one was a noble of Dres and the other of Sadras.
"Merin, Regnild." Almeril greeted them with a nod "Good to see you both."
Merin Zadir gave a lazy salute, while Regnild Sadras smirked slightly "Not surprised to see the lot of you here." He looks at Davos "Got any new instructions for us, Dagoth?"
Momentarily, Davos was tempted to fuck with the elf but chose to let him off for now "No, we were just passing by on a break, you two heard about the decree yet?"
"Yes." Merin answers "And while I understand why it was done, I do not envy the poor fools that will have to deal with the chaos of it all."
"Speak for yourself" Sadras scoffs "Doing it any other way would have been too slow and we'd get stuck with foreign import deals for the next five decades. People will be motivated to produce food and have more children to claim more land, which will be great for business no matter what."
"And I agree with that, I merely point out the issues." Merin scowls "Hold on, what do you mean claim more land by having children?"
Regnlid grins back at him "Did you hear anything about a deadline?"
"No, but why would we expect the offer to last foreve-" Merin stops himself and frowns.
"Exaclty" Sadras chuckles "He needs the entire kingdom populated, so why would he stop halfway?" He turns to Davos with a questioning look.
But Davos was no true politician, so all he could do was shrug "Wouldn't be too odd for him to do that, he may change conditions but there is no reason for the land to go to waste."
"See!" Regnild's smirk widened.
"Yeah, yeah" Merin scowls and waves him off.
Sadras chuckles before turning serious "Enough about that, you four here to see the ships?"
"The ships?" Davos blinks.
"You didn't know?" Regnlid blinks "Guess you must have missed it, Ashlanders are supposed to arrive today and my lot have been commissioned to transport them."
"Ah, that" Davos' eyes widen slightly "Thought they were supposed to come a day later."
Sadras smirks "My kin work quickly."
"Lead the way then, oh mighty fleetmaster" Davos drawls and they make their way to the docks.
Exactly in time to see a group of warriors clad in Dagoth colors disembarking from the first ship.
Seeing his friend still and his eye begin to twitch, Almeril gave Davos a concerned look "Are you well?"
Holding back a groan, Davos exhaled instead "He did not tell me about the sixth house remnants."
"That tracks." Regnild deadpanned.
'It really does' Davos laments internally.
---
(Reyvin's POV)
Five days have passed since the first council meeting, and the army shuffle was mostly completed by now.
Not that my first meeting with my new subjects was the last one, far from it in fact as we met on a daily basis, sometimes even holding multiple sessions when a particularly difficult question needed resolving.
Put bluntly, Morrowind was in a shit state, blessing or not, and I needed to get the entire nation working post haste if we wanted to be as relevant as possible when the time came.
Already, people were bitching at me for my land reform but I wasn't about to let a few noblemen gobble up the suddenly clear soil enriched by centuries of volcanic minerals sinking into it.
The land went from barren to one of the most fertile areas in the world in the blink of an eye and I wasn't about to let it turn into a plantation when it could so easily provide a good living standard for the vast majority of my people.
Still found it a bit odd to consider them truly my people but I supposed it would inevitably click as all things did and I would forget these thoughts ever existed.
I was not completely unreasonable though, as those elves that could prove their previous ownership over certain territories would be compensated but that was as far as I would go, the great houses would still retain most of their territories, it is just that their subjects would have more rights now by the virtue of owning the land they worked.
I wasn't about to allow a serf-based feudal system to appear. That shit belonged in High Rock and if I had my way it would not exist for too long there either.
Obviously, such ambitious agricultural expansion plans needed resources and soon our main topic, besides war preparations of course, became trade agreements. We needed to import enough seed, tools, and building materials to support my plans and in massive amounts at that.
And that is without securing transport and fair distribution...
Which is where my personal wealth and contacts came in as I contacted all three of Skyrim's northern ports and the Black-Briars in Riften, drawing out every favor reasonable to get those resources shipping yesterday.
We were able to fulfil most of our demands by directly contacting Torygg and having him pull a few strings of his own in return for a defensive alliance (as if either of us would fail to help the other otherwise) and the forges of Solitude's industrial district were already burning hard enough to choke out the skies.
It helped that my vault was overflowing and I let a bit of that spill over, covering a third of the cost on my own while using the newly organized collective treasury of Morrowind to cover the rest.
'You should not rely so eagerly on greed to command your subjects.' The disembodied voice of Dagoth Ur draws me from my thoughts 'Faith binds Mer much more firmly.'
He rarely ever spoke, even if I knew he could do it much more often. I think he was still processing the fact I became Hortator 'just like that'.
Rolling my eyes I couldn't help but scoff "I do not plan on being an absolute ruler permanently. And I do not bind them with greed, I bind them with prosperity, there is a distinct difference there."
'They will betray you, it is inevitable.' He points out.
"Not until I betray them" I chuckle "The duty of a ruler is to their people, and their stability and prosperity. Once that duty becomes an excuse and the people a means, they have every right to rebel."
He retorts immediately 'A foolish notion. Subjects are meant to obey their betters, abandon this n'wah foolishness before it is too late.'
"It is cute you think I got this from them." I scoff.
He remains silent as I step out onto a nearby balcony, and into the view of a large internal training ground, the sight of two Dunmer fighting each other with just a bit too much energy greeting me like it did for three days past.
'At least your servants are capable' Dagoth Ur yaps on 'Even if you should ensure their loyalty properly'
"Oh do shove your archaic mindset where it belongs" I roll my eyes as I see Davos hand Ulthis' ass to him for the dozenth time in these past few days "I have neither your weakness of character nor your lack of confidence."
'Hmph!'
I hold back a wince of pity as Davos grabs Ulthis' shield and throws him on the ground behind him with only one hand, the armored form of Nerevar separating them with an amused chuckle and helping the younger elf get up.
The little rivalry that sprouted the moment they met amused me something fierce, the two disliked the perceived advantages of the other and while Davos was more than able to ignore that baser impulse he was not above slapping Ulthis about when he asked for it.
So long as it didn't turn to anything idiotic, I felt no need to interfere.
Seeing the two Ashkhans who also accompanied their warriors entering the ring, I begin humming a song whose name I've long since forgotten and leave the Urshilaku and Erabenimsun to their fight.
I had more letters to write after all.
---
The sixth day of my stay at Old Ebonheart had me standing at that selfsame training ground myself after a rather boring council session was further derailed by the rather archaic mindsets of the two Ashkhans.
I could have certainly told them to shut the fuck up but that would have been counterproductive, even if they were well aware they were there mostly as a formality.
Anyway, the Telvanni contingent finally arrived yesterday and with them came Divayth Fyr, who took one good look at me and declared me to be the most ridiculous elf he had ever laid his eyes upon.
He then proceeded to goad a few of the other Magisters who came with him, mocking their accomplishments quite thoroughly while comparing them to me.
A good number of them, being the usual arrogant Telvanni, voiced their doubts of my capabilities, and even as the wiser of their number quickly retreated from that conversation more of the fools joined in.
All of them were challenged by yours truly to a quick little magic duel.
At once.
They arranged themselves against me and I did not even bother summoning anything but the clothes I already wore as I smirked at the lot of them "Are you quite sure you want this?" I ask, seeing Fyr looking at them like they are idiots from the corner of the room while he shared some whispers with Nerevar.
He of course took one short look at the armor and immediately knew the elf's identity, not that he bothered revealing it.
A fact I found very good for his long term health.
The Telvanni Magister whose name I refused to bother remembering went to say something but I was not about to listen to more of his yapping, and in an instant, all twelve master magi were in my telekinetic grasp, flailing about helplessly as I simply carved numerous disabling wards under them and powered them without bothering to move.
I waited ten full minutes before offering surrender.
By their own laws I could have simply snapped their necks and not gotten a single complaint, and all of them knew it.
Which meant that I now had a dozen mages in my debt.
How very generous of them all.
Now if only I could go for a walk outside without a disguise and not cause a riot to break out my day would be made!
A Mer could hope.
-----
In what felt like the blink of an eye, ten days had passed since my arrival to Old Ebonheart, and so did the initial scouting period as multiple reports arrived from the Tong about enemy positions and potential movements.
The army was drilled and properly reshuffled, all of them prepared for rapid and constant movement and supplied to the point of ridiculousness with an entire two cohorts worth of automatons being assigned simply to hauling.
The people gathered to see us off as we marched out of the old city, and many of them offered food or sealed drinks to the soldiers as they passed, priests called for the favor of the Good Daedra and their fellow warriors came to salute them.
Most of the army would only follow after us after all, their task to garrison all we conquered and ensure we had a means to resupply and rest.
Silently, I raised a hand and the crowd turned completely silent, my simple order of "March!" Washing over them like a wave as the troops began leaving the city in good order.
And so it was, that on the 22nd of Evening Star of the year 200 of the 4th era, the army of Morrowind, untied for the first time in millennia, marched on Mournhold.
