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POV of member of the Directorate

Ulriczeit-21,2490 IC

"A group of merchants is complaining about the deal they accepted with the Imperial," said one of my assistants, walking in with a worried look.

"Again? Don't they understand the agreement is already sealed and there's nothing left to negotiate with anyone?" I snapped, slamming my hand on the table.

"It's very unpopular in the city. Many people lost everything with the trade blockade on the Reik that young noble organized… and well, he sank several of the city's ships. So many lives were taken, even my—"

"Yes, yes, yes, I know. Your brother was on one of those ships that blew into a thousand pieces. That's war. And don't bring that story up every time you want me to feel guilty. It has nothing to do with the business," I cut her off, tired of her constant insistence.

"But—" she tried to protest.

"No buts, girl! The board already decided. Jaan van de Kuypers accepted as soon as he met the young Imperial. The bastard convinced him with a deal so juicy no one could have resisted. And while we all looked the other way, he went and bought up all the land along the path of the new railway. He secured the best slice of the pie and didn't even tell us. Clean move for him, a knife in the back for the rest of us," I spat angrily.

"I'm sorry," my assistant said, lowering her head before leaving.

I stayed behind, muttering to myself: "Damn dog… all he had to do was move his pawns, and he snatched one of the most profitable ventures Marienburg has ever seen. That railway is going to be a gold mine, and I don't even have a corner of the business. It will carry Imperial goods in days, while he dedicates all his ships to foreign trade. Thousands of extra gold coins, straight into his coffers!"

Of course the deal wasn't popular in the city. Many merchants went bankrupt when prices spiked from the blockade, others lost everything when their ships sank in the Reik. Entire families ruined. But what could they do? Nothing. The deal was sealed, and Jaan had maneuvered to take everything worth having.

I had to resign myself to watching that damned railway grow day by day. The project advanced relentlessly, even in winter, with thousands of Imperial workers enslaved under forced contracts, and dwarf crews hammering steel rails as if the cold didn't exist. Meanwhile, the drained swamps turned into fertile lands, all signed under the name of Jaan van de Kuypers, who surely already planned how to turn every inch into more gold.

I tried to contact the young Imperial running the project, offering sums that would have made any other man drool, but the bastard showed not the slightest interest. He didn't care how much gold I placed on the table. Nothing. He was so certain of his success that he saw no reason to let me in.

The streets burned with rumors. The dwarfs spoke openly of the wonders of their trains, how they could move tons of cargo in mere minutes. The small and medium merchants panicked: they knew it meant the end of their trade. If transporting goods became cheaper and faster than by ship, the gap between rich and poor would grow like never before.

And I, sitting in my office, could only curse under my breath, watching Jaan van de Kuypers steal the opportunity of my lifetime.

"Damn Jaan van de Kuypers…"

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Nachhexen-7,2491 IC

POV of Guild leader in Reinsfeld

"This must be a damn joke… how is it possible they gave us this pigsty to set up our businesses?" I said in disbelief, my face burning with rage.

"This is what the Graf agreed to grant us, so that we could settle in the city," answered one of the smiths who accompanied us, gesturing bitterly at that barren patch of land.

"Unheard of… simply unheard of! How can that noble think he can humiliate us like this? We are the Blacksmiths' Guild of Altdorf, not some band of provincial apprentices!" I shouted, feeling my eye twitch with pure fury.

After so much pressure, after months of discussions, we had finally forced that damned noble to yield. Our guild master had worked with others to push the Emperor himself to accept the establishment of guilds in these two new Imperial cities that had recently become hubs of mercantile traffic. And now, after all that effort—this. Empty land. As if we were beggars thrown a crust to shut us up.

It was already insult enough to be denied possession of his forges. What the hell does that noble know about smithing? Maybe which end of a sword to hold, but nothing more. Instead of leaving his forges in the hands of true professionals—men with generations of experience—he insists on keeping them under his own command, as if he knows anything beyond trading what others produce.

Breaking him will take time, that much is clear. His businesses seem to be thriving and for now he enjoys a measure of popularity. But if we begin to pressure his buyers, if we demand guild certifications for his products to circulate, we can start cutting him off. In the end, he will be forced to hand over those forges, even if unwillingly.

What stings the most is that the bastard seems eager to fight. He gave us the exact date to arrive, knowing full well we expected a proper place, and still he greeted us with wasteland. It was a declaration of war against the guilds, plain and simple.

And soon, more colleagues from other guilds arrived, lured by the same promises. In the end, everyone received the same: empty land. No workshops, no buildings, even though there are plenty of abandoned shops and facilities belonging to the Graf's industries. We were certain they would be handed to us… but instead, we were thrown into the mud, as if they wanted to laugh in our faces.

He even placed us in the farthest corner from the market, away from the true flow of commerce, as if burying us alive.

Days passed, and with no decent place to set up, we were forced to sleep in crowded, filthy taverns. Eventually more members of our guild arrived, accompanied by engineers prepared to raise blast furnaces and a new smithy. We had the funding; after all, the insult we suffered didn't sit well in Altdorf. Many were determined to support our cause—not only out of pride, but to surpass the noble's businesses and finally teach him the lesson he deserved.

At the same time, we tried to undermine him from within. We attempted to lure away his own workers, convincing them to join our ranks, promising better pay and fewer hours of toil. But it was far more difficult than expected. His workers showed an unusual personal loyalty to the Graf. And the head smith under him, a young man named Kurt—how he even came to hold his post I can barely fathom—watched us with thinly veiled hatred whenever we tried to negotiate.

We thought we had the upper hand… until the surprise came. The very next day we learned the Graf had doubled the wages of all his smiths and drastically cut their working hours.

And that wasn't all. Soon we discovered the same policy applied to the brewers, the soap-makers, practically every industry under his command. A direct counterattack to our schemes, a show of force that made it clear this noble was willing to wield his wealth to buy his people's loyalty.

This battle was going to be far tougher than we ever imagined.

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If there are spelling mistakes, please let me know.

Leave a comment; support is always appreciated.

I remind you to leave your ideas or what you would like to see.

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