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MT 291 - Property Law 101
🕑 Added 2025-07-26 06:40:00 +0000 UTC[If we rule the world, we will be better situated to make effective use of its resources against the avatars. The logic is as simple as it is irrefutable.]
“There’s no way that was your ‘logic’ when we first met,” I thought to my surly familiar without sparing a glance at his little-man form, sitting beside me. I wasn’t even certain the core was inside, or if it were another one of his golems like the two Etja clones that also flanked us.
[I was more than aware of the avatar menace at that time. Although I will admit, I may have underestimated its severity.]
“Which means it couldn’t have been your motivation for world domination.”
[Must I have had a motive? Sometimes, when one has been locked away within a Delve for several million years, they begin to seek an outlet for their idle mind. A brief outing to subjugate the collective will of all known civilizations is a refreshing mental exercise.]
“So you’ve done it before?”
[No. I have read about the benefits.]
“Where the fuck did you read about the cognitive advantages of world conquest?”
“Forgive my lack of decorum,” said the Littan sitting across from me. His accent in Imperial was distinct from most other Littans I’d encountered, with more of a casual drawl to it. “I’m uncertain of your preferred title.”
I put a pin in my psychic conversation with Grotto and regarded the grey-and-white-furred man on the other side of the conference table. Count Thais Starion was the ruler of the Littan county in which Krimsim had once resided. The capital city of Nohrrin–or its structures at least–now sat in a large section of the Closet.
Count Starion was dressed in loose-fitting formal robes, which seemed to meander in and out of a set of ornate plate armor. The outfit appeared ceremonial to mundane senses, but was layered in dense mana weaves. Several were defensive, but I didn’t get the impression that they were intended purely for combat. I suspected this was one of many gear sets the count kept in reserve, perhaps one specifically for meeting with suspicious foreigners. Of course, my meager crafting skills didn’t allow me to intuit the purpose of several of the weaves, so it was possible I was completely off the mark.
As for where the count had been during the battle of Krimsim, he’d not been dead as we feared, nor had he been MIA at all. As it turned out, the Hierophant’s assault had not been limited to Krimsim. A large contingent of mana monsters had first appeared in Choval, far to the southwest of Nohrrin.
Choval wasn’t large enough to be considered a nation unto itself, and its relationship with the Littan Empire was complex. The Chovali lived in colonies, the largest of which served as the center of Choval, and its closest Earth analog was that of a city-state. The people had a strong cultural identity that was distinct from the Empire, and the irregular terrain was a complex series of deep caverns and tunnels. While the Empire was expansionist, there wasn’t a whole lot in Choval that was worth invading such a difficult and culturally alien land for.
That didn’t mean the Littans weren’t interested in the Chovali’s labor and wares, though. While they’d never properly invaded, there were enough treaties between the two entities that Choval was viewed as an unofficial member of the empire by the rest of the world. So, while it didn’t technically fall under the Empire’s holdings, it did fall under its protection when seriously threatened.
The count was a Level 26 Gold, and his party had been the nearest high-level group capable of responding to the threat in Choval. That had taken them off the board for the defense of Krimsim, which we theorized was part of the Hierophant’s plan.
Sadly for it, the creature hadn’t accounted for my own party’s arrival and the subsequent ass-kicking that our presence would give rise to.
Count Starion, on the other hand, had been abundantly aware of my party’s impending arrival in Krimsim, although not for the purposes of monitoring our ass-kickery. Aside from staying aware of potential powerhouses showing up in his territories, the count was also father to the late Sir Sayil Starion, the Littan Delver who’d died in my own Creation Delve.
This made the opening of our meeting a little awkward, but the rest hadn’t been as uncomfortable as one might imagine. Varrin began with a formal apology for Sir Sayil’s death. Count Starion had more or less said, “You’re welcome in my lands, but I don’t want to be reminded of your existence,” after which Varrin had politely excused himself.
As for me, Count Starion had offered his thanks for playing a part in the rescue of his daughter, Ulia Starion, which I hadn’t known I’d done. A Chovali Delver named Nokomi had accompanied the count–a Level 10 with a suspiciously strong soul for her level–who’d apparently run a rescue mission to recover the count’s daughter during the battle; one that would have failed had it not been for my intervention and teleportation of the entire city to its new location within the Closet.
Although no accounting of Sir Sayil’s death placed any suspicion upon me, I had still been present when the count’s son had been violently murdered. That was a bitter taste not easily washed away, even with a mouthful of city and daughter saving. As such, I estimated that my reputation with the count was neutral, favoring friendly.
I was hoping it would stay that way. Given the Littan intelligence apparatus, there was every chance the count might one day realize that my bonded familiar had a much more direct hand in Sir Sayil’s death, but we’d burn that bridge when we came to it.
With those few pleasantries taken care of, the conversation had turned to the matter at hand, which was that no one knew what in the hells to call me anymore. Honestly, I didn’t know, either. The matter was a bit complicated.
[It is not complicated. You are a king, and you should be addressed as such. This will have a significant impact on how seriously you are taken during negotiations.]
“Both Eschendur and Hiward have formally recognized the Kingdom of Closetland, with me as its sovereign,” I said.
“I see,” said the count. “A kingdom without a lot of citizens. Tell me, what is the population of… Closetland?”
“You surely rule over more people than I do, Count Starion.”
The count tapped a nail against the table, seemingly deciding whether to press that issue. The scratching of a nearby scribe paused as silence overtook the room. “Well, King Xor’Drel,” said the count, and the scratching of a quill continued, “the priority here is the disposition of some two thousand and twenty-three Littan slaves. When does Closetland intend to return these individuals to their rightful owners?”
“While I acknowledge the historical cultural practices of the Littan Empire, Count Starion, Closetland does not recognize the practice of slavery.”
I motioned to one of the four-armed golems, and it bowed as it presented a thin codex to one of the count’s attendants. The woman accepted the document, handed it to the Chovali Delver, Nokomi, whose pug-like nose and large ears twitched while she inspected it. After her evaluation, she deposited it in front of the count, who looked down at it but made no move to open it.
“And what is this, King Xor’Drel?” said the count.
“That is section two of the Closetland Civil Code–the CLCC–which deals with matters of property law. It expressly forbids the ownership of sapient entities and rejects foreign claims to any such individuals within Closetland’s borders.” I leaned forward and pointed at a red ribbon peeking out from between the pages. “You’ll find the relevant subsection marked right there.”
The count tapped his nail against the table again. “I’ll be sure to have my barristers give it a thorough look through." He then waved a hand at his attendant, who scooped up the codex and ducked out of the room. She returned a moment later without it. “I presume this means that you don’t intend to return the slaves?”
I leaned back in my chair. “Closetland’s position on these individuals is that they are asylum seekers. After the events that brought Krimsim into Closetland’s borders, a representative of this group approached my majordomo with a request to allow their continued presence while the matter of their freedoms was adjudicated. We agreed to open an inquiry as to the potential harm they might suffer if they were forced to return to the Littan Empire, and found their claims to have merit.”
“The legality of Krimsim’s relocation–and the relocation of its people’s property–is suspect,” said the count. “Although I appreciate what you did for the city, the authorities who approved the migration were not apprised of Closetland’s status as an independent nation.”
“Approval wasn’t even necessary,” I said. “Everyone who was teleported consented to it. Any resistance would have led to its failure.”
“An agreement made after hearing, ‘Resist and you will die,’ is not what I’d describe as consent.”
“That characterization is misleading. If you were out sailing and found a man drowning, you might hold out your hand to them. It would be absurd to say, after the fact, that they hadn’t given consent to you making physical contact and pulling them into your boat.”
“That example is misleading.”
“Look, even if we assume that authorization was required, I reviewed the relevant Imperial law alongside my counsellors. Major Tavio acted well within the bounds of the powers granted to him under the emergency edicts.”
“This is a novel circumstance,” said the count.
“Which was appropriately handled under the catch-all provisions.”
The count let out a breathy chuckle. “How ‘appropriate’ it was is determined by a judicial decree interpreting whether the actions taken by Major Tavio were ‘reasonable’. You do not have the authority to make that judgment.”
“Until such a review concludes otherwise, we are operating under the good-faith belief that Major Tavio’s decisions were lawful. Regardless, even if we further assume that his execution of the powers granted to him as Krimsim’s temporary regent were flawed, Closetland would still hold no culpability under Imperial law.
“In fact,” I continued, “Closetland is already facilitating the remedies laid out by the emergency edicts, meaning that any resolution that would be applicable in that scenario is already in effect. We’ve accommodated an ongoing Imperial presence to retrieve any and all Imperial property. We’ve also assisted in the return of all Imperial citizens, aside from those who’ve elected to remain while they receive ongoing medical treatment. This, alongside the disaster relief we’ve provided, has been done at significant time and expense to Closetland, which we have no expectation of recovering.”
“Except for the two thousand slaves you’re withholding," said the count.
“We aren’t withholding them. They don’t fall under either classification, so you have no legal right to demand that they be handed over to you.”
The count frowned and folded his hands on the table. “Please explain what you mean by that.”
“As I mentioned, Closetland does not recognize the ownership of sapient individuals. Thus, we reject their categorization as property. The next source of law that would govern the return of these asylum seekers requires imperial citizenship. However, the Littan Empire does not recognize slaves as citizens. So, they aren’t your property and they aren’t your citizens.”
The count gestured to his aide, who came over and bent down as the count whispered in her ear. Mana gently ran through one of the weaves in the count’s robes, and I couldn’t hear anything that was said, despite their proximity. I could still get a read on the count’s soul, however, and even though I was stonewalling the man, he didn’t seem to care one way or another as to the fate of Krimsim’s slave population. After a few exchanges, the count nodded and leaned back. The aide left the room once again.
“Obviously, the Littan Empire finds your position on this matter disappointing,” he said. “However, let’s put that aside for the moment and discuss economics. I expect you have an accounting of the expenses Closetland has incurred in giving assistance over the last three months?”
“We do,” I said, gesturing to one of the golems again. It presented a thin stack of papers, this time to Nokomi, who took them after a moment of hesitation. She flipped them over and perused them for something–traps, most likely–then placed them down in front of the count. “As I said before, we don’t expect any compensation.”
“Yes, yes,” said the count dismissively as he flipped through the pages. “I see you’ve listed the costs in mana chips.”
“It’s the preferred currency in Closetland at the moment.”
“How do you handle small sums?” he asked.
“We’re preparing a representative money system, but right now, it's the seller's choice.”
The count grunted, laid the pages back down, and held out a hand. Nokomi looked at the count, then at the small stack of papers his aide had left behind.
“How may I assist you, Count?” she asked. Count Starion looked up at her.
“Oh, Tress is still away? The green folder, please.”
Nokomi stepped forward, found the specified folder, and handed it to the count, who then slid it over to me. I opened it to find a different accounting, which appeared to catalog the value of various materials within Krimsim.
“The empire has finished extracting all sensitive technologies from Krimsim,” said Count Starion. “What remains is some million tons of high-density wood harvested from the outer edges of the Forest. The market rate of this material is quite high, as you can see.”
I perused the astronomical sums, schooling my expression and waiting to see where the count was going with this.
“However, the preservation and recovery of Krimsim’s advanced weapons systems is of incalculable value,” the count continued. “Regardless, you can see that a value has been calculated, which you can find on page six.”
I flipped to page six to see another figure with too many zeros.
“We are willing to forfeit our claim to the remaining materials in Krimsim,” said the count. “Partially as remuneration for your assistance, and partially because it’s more trouble than it’s worth for us to haul it all out at the moment. There’re always more trees to cut down, and the designs for New Krimsim demand fresh construction, not repurposed buildings riddled with damage.”
“Does your claim include the privately owned structures?”
“Yes. The circumstances allowed us to perform a mass condemnation of the buildings. We’re compensating the former owners ourselves.”
“Have you calculated the value of this wood according to its salvage rates?” I asked. “These aren’t fresh-cut boards.”
“The figures have been adjusted appropriately.”
“If this really is the wood’s value as scrap, then why does it sound like Closetland is being used as a dumping ground?”
The count smirked. “I’m sure you can see the worth of what we’re leaving behind. There are plenty of salvage organizations that would put up some sky-high bids for a contract to come in here and lug everything else out. If you don’t want it, you can sell it.”
[The wood is of sufficient durability for many of our purposes, and most of the existing structures can be repaired without additional materials at a moderate cost in time. It will serve as a major advantage in constructing a habitable city.]
“Which is something we’ll need if they’re letting the slave thing go by, which it sounds like they are.”
“Now, on page seven,” said the count, “you’ll find an entry for miscellaneous items.” I flipped to that page, seeing yet another staggering figure. “This entry concerns certain tangible items whose value is… highly fluid.” He gave me a meaningful look, and I noted that there were exactly 2,023 such ‘miscellaneous’ items. “We could argue over the specifics of these figures, but–” he gestured vaguely, as though shooing a fly away. “No one wants to go through the process of audits. So, we propose that both sides wipe our ledgers clean.”
Given my measure of Count Starion thus far, I waited for the conditions that were certain to follow, but none came. He simply sat there, calmly waiting for my reply.
“All right,” I said.
“Excellent,” said the count. “Now, with all of that dealt with, I have some requests I’d like you to consider.”
Oh, there it was.
Comments
McIntosh Ewell
It was awesome seeing our favorite Esquire flexing his litigation muscles. And with the booming population from the Freemen, he's about to be more than just a king in name
bcd051
I friggin love this chapter. Lawyer Arlo amused me to no ends
Throh_goblin Lord
Just reminding me of how much i hate car dealerships lol,
Ers20
Grotto is just trying to practice a little self-care by conquering the world and Arlo is being catty about it, smh. v_v
