Altdorf, 16 days after Battle of Middenheim

Aurelius had been to Altdorf before and not expected big changes. This time he watched in the banks of the Reik in wonder. The few buildings he had seen close to Germany had a utilitarian look to them, usually ugly blocks of bricks, mortar and steel.
It was a strange land and such strangeness was to be expected. But now, ever since the last kilometers the banks of the Reik were dotted by similar buildings, just mostly made of wood. A veritable fleet of boats and ships were coming and going from these in no particular order and shipped goods and people around. The buildings often had inscriptions in the simple blocky script of the Germans. He could easily read it but what sense made "Addidas", "Kühne", "Puma" or "Eterna" to him.

From what he could see this was an area with many manufactories working with each other and the German influence was undeniable. The newcomers were upsetting a balance so carefully crafted like a child that plays with bricks and had no sense of them-incredible. The stink of these factories alone was proof enough that this was not a good development.

His arrival at the Altdorf city harbor reminded him why he despised the humans so much. They simply stank. Their city had no decent sanitation and the night soil fouled the air as did the mass of unwashed bodies and the crude food the humans preferred. The buildings were blocky heaps of stone lacking the intricate artistry of elvenkind and the haphazard roadmap showed the lack of planning and foresight.
The Empire did even more to slight him-instead of being greeted by the Emperor himself he was met by Reiksmarshall Hellborg. He was given full honors, he could hardly fault that.
After the opening pleasantries where the two nobles defaulted the details of accommodations to their underlings the Reiksmarshall had news for the Elf.

"You just come in time for the parade, a good thing certainly."
"You have me at an advantage there Marshall-what parade."
"Ah, I am sorry, I thought the news had reached you. We have a victory parade to celebrate our Victory at Middenheim. Many of the troops that fought there have returned from the city by road and train in the last days. In order to honor them and give the population the good news there will be a parade. As we knew you were coming I took a chance and reserved some in the government stand close to Emperor Karl-Franz bridge for you which is not far. I hope you will accept the invitation."
Aurelius was not too keen on giving legitimacy to whatever military games the humans had cooked up, but if he wanted to assume leadership it would probably not do to slight the troops and he could get an impression of them, but still.
"You said these soldiers are back from Middenheim within two weeks-how is that possible?"
"Yes it seems slow these days but the railroad to Middenheim is not yet finished. About half of the trip was conducted on roads and the Germans did not have enough trucks to transport everybody in one go. Still seems like magic in a way."
What? Either there was something new underfoot that he could not yet identify or the Reiksmarshall was a braggart of the highest order-well he would see which it was soon.
"I accept, thanks for your efforts. I take it I will meet the Emperor during the parade."
"I will be sure to arrange it."
"Splendid"

A couple of hours later he found himself standing on one of the stands erected besides the parade above the plebs of the lower imperial nobles. The first units to pass were what he had expected – Cavalry from the Wolf Guard and various infantry. It was like the poor-man's version of a similar parade in Ulthuan-how could the humans expect to achieve mastery of warfare or artistry when he had 20, maybe 30 years to learn and ply his trade? The only interesting bits were some footmen that carried a very slender sort of musket and a small Troop of Reiksguard Knights who had strange looking pistols. They were accompanied by two horseless chariots the Germans called trucks who also bore some small cannon. Why the crowd cheered them especially he could not understand.

He was about to ask about this when everything was drowned out by an avalanche of sound. He had never heard such before and it reverberated through everything as it was accompanied by vibrations which shook the stand he was on. Even the renewed cheering of the plebs was mostly swallowed when a row of vehicles drove into view. The first vehicles that he could seemed not to be the source of the clamor but were impressive enough. Boat-shaped hulls sat on huge rubber tires and the steel of their armor plating was smoother than any that Aurelius had ever seen. The German machines seemed to have a common hull and different armaments-some wore what seemed like slender cannon together with canisters which hid more weapons. Others had bigger cannons and strange wands and something like dishes atop of them and even more showed stubby-looking barrels of higher caliber.

Then the source of the monstrous sounds entered the scene. He had heard that the Germans had something like improved steam tanks, but this description did not do any honors to the monsters that drove by him. Their size alone made then impressive-they neatly reached to the height of his stand were at least 4 times as long as he was and probably 2 times as broad. They had many wheels inside a track arrangement and a blocky turret sat atop a low-slung body. The longest cannon the noble had ever seen on something moving jutted out of the turret and several smaller barrels hinted at more destructive power.
What was more-these war machines did not show anything of the ramshackle patched construction that was shown by steam tanks or the riveted plates of dwarven engineering. They were seamless in parts and it was obvious that they were build "just so".
They extruded an aura of invulnerability and deadly menace that even the Elf found hard to ignore.

There was a break in the stream of vehicles and Aurelius was already asking himself whether the parade was over when the next sound wave that he could not identify assaulted his sensitive ears.
A deep droning barely preceded the appearance of 3 fliers. He had heard before that the humans called them planes but these seemed bigger than any he had seen before. They had something like two windmills on each of their straight wings which somehow pulled the big machines forward.
A sound like a tearing, no unlike anything he had witnessed before heralded the approach of a dozen smaller planes who were much smaller, faster and sported triangular wings. When the passed over the bridge they pulled sharply upwards until they seemed to rest on their tails and unbelievably accelerated until they were out of sight.

The last flier to make the parade was different again. Even bigger than the first fliers it had a long graceful fuselage and slender wings canted backwards like arrow fletching. 8 pods of something hung in pairs of two under the wings and made a sound even louder than the others before it. Flying incredibly low the huge thing made a circle over all of Altdorf in a display of agility out of all proportion of its size. While it looked different from the other planes that had been paraded by him it showed the same black crosses that marked the other German vehicles, flying or not.
This display of military power reinforced the worst fears in the Nobles mind-the humans were playing with toys far above their ability to handle.

Near Passau, Bavaria, same day

Jean of Dubois was cutting asparagus from a prepared field. It meant that he had work bend forward to nearly ground level, had to grub in the dirt and all of that under a sun that made him sweat as a hog.
He felt like a King. He felt like a King as nobody would beat him if some idiot felt like he was working too slowly, he felt like a King as he got 3 meals a day of which at least 2 had real meat in them and he felt like a King as he earned 3 Euros an hour.
He was working on one of the many farms that dotted the hilly Bavarian countryside as a seasonal harvest help. He had been told that before Germany was put in this world this was a job mostly done by Polish and Rumanian workers who were no longer available.

Even the lowly serfs of Bretonia had heard about the new Country that had been transplanted to this world and as always there were wild rumor about them. Some rumors stated that there were incredible houses and roads, that there were gigantic cities which you could not walk through in a single day. Others said that the Germans had magical chariots and even mechanical birds which allowed them to fly.
Other stories, especially the ones told by Robert de Dubois, Marquis of Dubois told of lawlessness, of the pictures of naked women lewdly shown in the public and of crazed serfs who walked through the streets and shouted their anger at their rightful government.

The most crazy and unbelievable of all stories told of a country where there were no serfs and no slaves-how could that be, everybody had them. He had not paid too much attention to these rumors as he had been too busy wooing his Marie, his beautiful, graceful funny and exiting Marie, the Queen of his heart.

The Marquis had given them permission to marry without too much of a fuss and everybody in their village had helped them to erect their new hovel-it even had a brick-build fireplace and he had been the happiest man in the world-until it all went wrong.
His beloved Marie had become sick of child-bed fever and nothing he could do helped. The Marquis had refused to pay for a healer even when the child could very well have been his, so both Maire and their child died an untimely death. The world went gray after that-the sun no longer warmed him, food tasted like ashes and music did no longer lift his spirits. In his depression he could no longer work as fast as he used to and so he had been beaten much more often.

One of the beatings was so severe that it finally cut through the daze that clouded his mind and showed him that things could not go on like this. He had heard that there were many other nobles who treated their serfs better, but even if he were to escape to one of their fiefdoms they would be required to send him back.
In the end he decided he had nothing to lose and try the wildest rumors. He had used the celebrations of the Day of the Lady to make his escape. In this craze nobody missed him for days and when they finally did he had so much of an advance and crossed so many streams that even the Marquis famed hounds could no longer track him.

He had lived like an animal for weeks, eating wild fruits and whatever he could gather when no one was looking. More by accident then by design he had stumbled across the German border. A bored guard had one look at him and asked whether he came as a seasonal harvest helper in accented Bretonian and that seemed about right. Even in his disheveled state he was eagerly grabbed up by a farmer who was anxious to get helpers for the harvest. He had been so incredulous when his new workmates explained the way of life around here. He did not have to work if he did not want to-he would not get paid but he would not be punished. Nobody would beat him, if anybody did it was a punishable offence. He only had to work 8 hours per day, anything more he would have to agree to and he would be paid 4 Euros, not 3 for any hour he worked like that. And Sunday was off, period. He got his own bed with clean covers in a room with only 3 others and like in a fairy tale hot water ran from faucets when you opened them.

The food was another marvel to behold. They even could eat what they harvested-just two days ago the farmer`s wife had cooked asparagus with a Sauce Hollandaise, Potatoes and smoked ham for all of them-what a delicacy-he would never had a chance to eat so in well Bretonia. He had regained his strength and a large part of his well-being by being treated and fed like a human being as contrasted to a beast of burden.
"Jean…Jean, I am talking to you."
"Sorry Ernst, I did not hear you right away. What`s up"
"The farmer asked for you, please go there now, I`ll take care of your row till you are back."
"Did I do something wrong?"
"Not that I know of, you work fine. No, I hear there is somebody who wants to talk to you."

Wondering who that might be the Breton wiped his hands on his newly-acquired Jeans and walked to the Farm, all the way wondering who might be waiting for him. He knew that he needed a permit if he wanted to stay in Germany past the harvest, was it somebody from Government?
Walking into the Farm he first saw the broad back of Marcel Bauer the farmer who hired him and he was already too close when he saw whom the farmer was talking to. The sight and the sound of Robert de Dubois send ice down his veins and constricted his throat to the point where he could hardly move or talk.

"Ah Jean, there you are-here is a Robert de Dubois who wants to speak with you. Are you two related?" Before Jean could utter anything the slightly nasal voice of the Bretonian noble cut in. "Certainly not good man. I am Robert de Dubois, my family has ruled the fiefdom of Dubois and the countryside for 8 generations. He is Jean of Dubois-his kind does not have family names. Mostly they do not know who their father is anyway. But the of Dubois already says why I am here-he is a runaway serf and belongs to the fiefdom-he belongs to me. He absconded from my fiefdom without the allowance I certainly would not give and now I am here to take him back."
"So Jean here is a criminal who ran away?"
"By running away he became a criminal, so I bring him back for his richly deserved punishment and se he can continue to give the services he is due to me."
"Is that true Jean? Do you want to go back with the Knight?"
"Nnno, no I do not want to go back with..with this animal"
"I suspected so. Sorry Sir Robert, but I have to ask you to leave my farm-immediately."
"I expected better of you, but you are a commoner. I have to insist."
"Insist all you like- I am taking my serf with me"
"Forget it, I will…"

Shhhht-the sword drawn by the Bretonian noble was a typical cavalry sword-long, straight, heavy and very well made. The Knight displayed considerable strength as he handled the weapon like most humans would handle a rapier.
"Don`t stand in my way, I do not want to sully my blade with you blood. I would have to consider anybody on this farm my enemy if you do not yield."
"You are not getting away with this, you.." The sword pommel which hit the farmers temple made a sickly crunching sound and Bauer dropped like a sack of potatos."
"Now come with me you cur"
Robert followed his former liege like a puppy-with his hands tied behind his back and an noose around his neck leading to the knights hand he had few chances otherwise.
The knight rambled on in an unending monotone about the time and costs he had to bear to find Jean and to travel to Germany and how he would get the costs out of Jeans back and…

Robert probably did not know what the sound of the sirens meant and Jean was about the last person on earth who would tell him. He was still surprised when three cars stopped around them and several policemen jumped out and took station, blocking their way. Some of the policemen had pistols, others showed something that Jean could not recognize. Their leader stepped forward and issued his demands.
"Stop right there and lift your hands above the head-right now"
"Are you challenging me? If you cannot prove to be of noble blood I cannot accept a challenge for honorable combat and I.."
"Hands up stupid, do it now"
The knight had his sword halfway out of the scabbard when 2 pepper spray jets converged on his face. The Knight was plucky enough to draw his weapon despite the fact that he could not see anything, could hardly breathe and the terrible burning in his face. For all that he got a notable beating by the police.

Despite Jeans protests that he was well he was driven into a hospital, poked and prodded and kept for the knight. Before he was allowed to sleep a policeman came by and kept asking countless questions. Jean took a while until he had enough courage to ask.
"Sir, what will happen to me now. Will you send me back to Dubois"
"Hardly, stop worrying about that. We need you as a witness for what happened anyway so you will get a permit for the next 6 months or so anyway, and then there is a new harvest, relax.
"Thank you Sir. And, if I may ask, how is my farmer?"
"Ah, thought you might ask that. The doctors operated him already and he is still out, but there should be nothing permanent. Mrs. Bauer asked me to tell you she is happy that we got you out and will pick you up tomorrow-she said something about the asparagus not cutting itself."

Robert was sinking back into his cushions and relaxed as had worried that the farmer`s injuries would be held against him.
"A last question if I may-what will become of Sir Robert?"
"Oh he is of course innocent until he is properly convicted, but in all likelihood he will be in for kidnapping, malicious injury and some other stuff. I`d say he spends 10 years in prison before they ever breathe the word "Pardon"
Jean was too much under the influence of the drugs the Germans had given him not to sleep deeply. But during work the next days he marveled at his luck-and had pity on those serfs not so lucky. A courageous man would try to help more of them escape, but courageous men were nobles, weren`t they. Or maybe not…..

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Kiel Channel, Hochdonn ferry terminal, same evening

Martin Brand was in the bridge of the Channel ferry he had worked on for the last 10 years. For all of that time he had ferried cars, trucks and passengers between the two cannel banks many times a day free of charge.
Now he was unscrewing the steering wheel of the ferry-it was no longer needed. As there was no more Denmark the detour a ship had to take when it wanted to reach Kiel from the Sea of claws was so small that nobody could justify the costs of the Kiel channel any more.
Besides the free-of charge ferries that he and his colleagues worked on in 12 places the channel had to be dragged, the locks maintained and costly high bridges kept up. It had been worth it before, but now the passage through the channel had slowed down to a trickle. In many places low-slung bridges spanned the channel already, in others they were backfilling the channel to build roads on them.
It was a shame really, he had liked the job. But there were many opportunities for men who knew their way about shipping these days, he would not be out of a job, he would just be home less of the time. The way things were between him and his wife, maybe that was a good thing.

Kharak Hirn, same time

Gotrek and Felix had taken the train to Altdorf but had got no news. The Storm of Chaos was consuming most resources. Thus they had to wait. Although both were rather keen to join the next German unit to go into battle, Gotrek had to know something else. Something more important. So they went to Kharak Hirn directly. Here Gotrek had left Felix to find answers on his questions. He was away for over four days, until he reappeared. Gotrek had been totally calm. Felix asked him, what happened.

"I am fine. I have got much answers. At first, as I was dead, the slayer oath had been fulfilled. The guilt is repaid."
"That's fantastic!"
"Yes. I have accepted this fact now. I have learned to forgive myself as well. Or at least made the first step. However, I have another job to do: To find an answer, what has happened."
"I come with you!"
"You don't need to do so. As I am no slayer any more you are also free."
"You are no slayer anymore. But you're still my friend."
"Thank you, Felix."
"Will you still fight without protection?"
"No. I will buy me an armour."
Only little later they were going back to Altdorf.

Altdorf, Imperial Palace, the next day

Heike Müller felt out of place and was highly afraid of making mistakes. That she was doing something that she had dreamt of for so long did not make it any better. For most of her adult life she had read the German "yellow press" and had been fascinated by the lives of Europe's nobles and their affairs.
Now she was inside the real thing-a real palace populated by real governing nobles and real servants who held their rituals as they were a necessity, not playacting. That alone gave her the shivers. Not that she looked out of place-the courts tailor had done fast sterling work and she though the formal dress suited her figure fine.

The problem was that she was afraid of was committing some gaffe by not adhering to the millions of rules that permeated this place, the written and the unwritten ones. The small leaflet from the German embassy about them seemed woefully thin and she was sure to affront somebody for every meter she walked through the marvelous halls.
The Altdorf Palace oozed history from every corner. It had not burned or was seriously fought for since more than a Millennium and inside as outside it was a clash of styles and building methods which denoted the various additions, repairs and patches accumulated over time.

Still it oozed the grandness Germans usually associated with old Churches but had the hustle of a center of government and society. Currently she was in a ballroom that was adjunct to the inner court that would be used for the upcoming ceremony. Everybody could hustle to and fro and talk with each other-but she had nobody to talk to. That was the second reason why she was uneasy about all of this. She was not here because of herself but because of her husband, Kurt Müller. The nice, unassuming, slightly overweight and bald railroad engineer that without ever talking to her whether she agreed or not went off to a heroic quest. Did he never think about how she felt about this, what she were to do if he died or became crippled in his fight?

In her rare moments of self-inspection she would admit that half of that problem was that she did not recognize the man she had been married to for half a lifetime in what he had done the last 4 weeks. It was like waking up and finding a stranger in her bed.
She was so deep in her self-pity that she did not see the approach by a particularly large man and his small entourage and only turned when he blocked a part of the light coming from the open doors leading to the courtyard.
Turning around she found herself face-to-face with Karl-Franz, Emperor and the host of the event. Managing an acceptable courtesy had more to with suddenly lacking strength in her legs than remembering her leaflet about courtly manners.

I, I am sorry your Highness, I did not see you coming and.."
"It is we who have to apologize Baroness Müller. Please rise. I hope you enjoy yourself at this little gathering. We have to apologize for taking your husband from you at an age when he should be keeping you company and not slaying my enemies as he so ably did. He was literally the only railroad engineer available who could do what needed to be done. Any day of delay or the handling of "Hammer by an inept stand-in would have had grievous consequences. We do not like to do such things but it needed to be done and we could just hope it would end well. And your husband did far better than anybody could expect, you may be proud of him. Don`t be too amazed by the things that Marshall Hellborg will say about him, it is customary first to list why he should not be added to the list and then say why he should be."
"Thank you your Majesty"
"You are welcome. By your leave Baroness, duty calls."

He was not gone when about a dozen courtiers were very keen to talk to her-why had the Emperor shown any interest in this woman. For Heike one puzzle had been solved-how her husband could agree to join this madcap adventure. The emperor emitted a ton of Charisma and she was smitten by it in a different way than her husband but could tell the effects. Of course a new puzzle had opened in its place-what the hell had Kurt done that had the Emperor praise him so much.
She had a good place later at the ceremony. There was a stand for the speakers; there was a detachment of the Reiksguard Knights in full armor and a lot of spectators.
The first to enter the Podium was Angela Merkel who wore something that had a little military bearing when you looked at it the right way.

"We have come together now to honor those who have fought so bravely in the Series of Battles which are called the "Storm of Chaos" by now. Many have fought in these battles and fought bravely, but some have exceeded the call of duty in such a way that we want to honor them publicly.
Germany did not have a medal to honor such soldiers well until now and all proposals to resurrect old medals like the "Iron Cross" would have too many of the wrong connotations. So the German Parliament has decided to grant a new Medal, the "Ehrenmedallie des Bundestages", the Medal of Honor of Parliament. The soldiers we honor today will also be included into the Honor Company of the Reiksguard to denote the service they did to both our nations. I therefore leave it to Reiksmashal Hellborg to explain why we gave these medals. Marshall-your turn."
The huge grizzled Veteran who climbed the stand was obviously a connoisseur of battles, and a Medal and an invitation into the Reiksguard he doled out meant a lot to those who knew him.

"Honored Guests, as many of you are not from the Empire let me first explain what the Reiksguard Honor Company is about. All able bodied men are expected to fight for their liege and against our enemies and those who fight with exceptionable valor will be honored. To be chosen for this particular accolade one has to fight for the whole Nation, not just for a part. And while all of us fought in Middenheim we fought for both of our great nations and more. So, whom do we honor today:
"Sir Nathan Alpers, step forward please. Don´t look so surprised somebody should have told you that the title comes with elevation into the Honor Guard didn`t they. Well, no matter. When I talked to the committee that decides the entrance into the Honor Guard they asked me: What important battle did he fight in, which enemies did he slay in glorious combat? My answer was simple: Without you, young pilot, there would not have been a Lager Middenheim. Without you, there would not have been a lucky end to the siege of Castle Wolfenfels and whether we could have send reinforcements into Middenheim through the army that besieged it is questionable. And the courage of anybody who flies an unarmed plane to the enemy again and again and again is beyond questioning. Welcome in our ranks Sir Nathan.

Sir Henrik Gerber, what can I say? When I was asked about you I had to concede that you did not personally fought anybody, that your body did not come any closer to the enemy than 500 meters or so. But you were there when we needed an able man to command the 1st Landwehr and you did it with style. You brought the troops where they were needed, you relieved the siege of the quarry at the proverbial last minute and you and your troops killed the largest warherd that this world has seen in a long time. You have shown initiative and the courage to act on your assessment of the situation. And finally I asked if the committee really wants to turn down the man who commands a weapon that can demolish Altdorf in a matter of hours. Welcome Sir Henrik.

Sir Joakim Vos you have come from a country that did not come with you when Germany was drawn into this world and yet you fight for both of our Nations and you fight well. You personally defeated Garek, the Doombull which gave us all such problems and saved a man important to many of us. Welcome Sir Joakim.

Sir Ulrich Stoiber, for you there was no discussion at all. I do not know how many humans, elves, demons and dawi tried to kill Archaron for good and rid us all of his terror and I doubt anybody ever will. But we know for sure that you did it and did it with style. The Temple of Ulrik has bestowed you tank company another honor-please accept their flag and the name that come with it-the Wolfpack. Welcome Sir Ulrich.

Sir Valten, you have reminded us for what we all fight for. We do not fight for the successful accomplishment of our missions, we do not fight for honor to our units and ourselves and we do not fight for our lives. We fight for the farmer to till his field and feed us all, for our mothers to sleep soundly in her bed and for the children to carry us into the future. You have fought for these and you fought with more courage and skill than most of us have. Welcome Sir Valten"

Sir Kurt Müller, the committee was the most amazed when your name turned up. He is no soldier they said; he has not fought in personal combat they said and did not want to fight at all they said-so why should we include you into the hallowed ranks of the Honor Company. I pointed out to them that you personally killed more beastmen then the complete Reiksguard in the last 10 years or so and that if you do not belong, none of us do. Welcome Sir Kurt."

This was when Heike Müller fainted and missed the rest of the citations and accolades. There were a lot of them: Ernst Hermann, Sergeant Blascoviks and Hauptmann Hemmler for their fight along with the title of Dragonslayers, for Raimund Wurz for killing more Bloodthirsters than anybody else in history and for Mike Kozlowski for killing a Chaos Army-and so many others. The celebrations went on for hours but became livelier when the evening went on.
It was already late at night when Valten found that he could not sleep. Too much excitement, too many people in a small space, too unfamiliar the surrounding-some would say the battlefield by another name.

If he could not sleep he could at least enjoy his stay in another way. Getting up carefully-his scar still smarted-he walked out to one of the Gallerias that faced the inner courtyard. The stars were not as visible as when he was out in the field, but gave him a sense of wonder still. He did not see the servant that watched him but he was aware of the approach of the single man that joined him on the Gallery even before he came near.
He went onto his knee without hesitation.

"Your highness"
"Get up Sir Valten, please. Can´t sleep?"
"Yes Sir. Too much to eat, too much to think about.."
"I think I know what you mean. Done it myself. Can you do me a small favor?"
"Whatever you ask Sire"
"Then hold this for me a for a minute"
"Sir?" Valten was not even aware of it that he reached out and took the Hammer that was thrust in his direction, but he gripped immediately and firmly. Nobody could say for sure how but the young warrior seemed bigger and older when he took a cautious swing
"This feels….right"
"So this is it Valten, I should have seen it sooner. Well, better now than too late. Can you give it back to me for now Valten, thank you that's a lad. Oh Sigmar, what am I going to do with you?"
"I live to serve Sir. For everything else we need to talk to Father Hus"
"Valten, if you are indeed the man I think you are you should be able to decide a few of things on your own. Otherwise you will become what many of my advisers think: A religious figurehead used by the Clergy of Sigmar to their ends at best, the focal point of a civil war at worst. To be very frank-I have advisors which tell me I should have you assassinated."
"Sir, I don`t want to hurt the Empire in any way, but I need the advice of those who know more than I do."
"I can understand that and I rely on advice by learned people a lot. But the decisions I need to take by myself and for that I need to KNOW some stuff myself, including how to learn more. And with the Germans about we all have to learn a lot and be quick about it."
"Sire, I was brought up as a Village Smith, what can I say."

"Not much at present, but we can change that. The Germans offer a University-don`t look at me like that, it's a school for adults-specially for imperial soldiers and rulers who are groomed for higher things. Called school of the Reik or some such thing. We send a couple of teachers too, mostly for imperial laws, customs and magic. It will be an exciting place for sure, also good for getting to know people who will be important in 10 years or so. I can grant you a royal stipend for you to go there in style and learn to make your own decisions. Your decisions, not the ones I want you to make or your priest or anybody else. Do well at that place and come back in 3 years and we have a real talk. Such a talk could well include the word "adoption". So what do you say Valten."
"Sire, this is what I want more than anything else."
"Then we have a deal."