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POV of Konstantin von Liebwitz

Nachgeheim 2-8,2491 IC

Having so many important figures from all parts of the world in my home is one of the greatest honors I could ever have imagined receiving. I even consider it superior to the right of being designated to choose the weaponry that will defend the Empire's borders. From the envoys of Tilea and Estalia, eager to place large orders of arms, to the Kislevites, who seek to exchange goods for vast amounts of weapons to equip their vanguards against the Norscan incursions—all have gathered here.

But no less important is the presence of my esteemed colleagues, the Elector Counts, who have granted me the privilege of gathering such illustrious nobles in my city. Thus, all have been able to behold the magnificence of the University of Nuln and appreciate what has been achieved after so many years of effort, despite the misfortunes that once befell this city since the days of the great Magnus the Pious.

What has thrilled me the most, however, has been the presence of the new Elector Count of the Westerlands. The young man is a true strategic genius in the application of technology on the battlefield. Much of his army has shifted from swords and halberds to a much broader use of firearms. It is admirable how he knows how to combine ancient tactics with modern innovations to defeat the Bretonnians or apply effective defenses against the beastmen hordes. One of my greatest satisfactions was analyzing his report on a fortress erected in Middenland.

Albrechsheim, as the local nobles named it in honor of its founder, is already considered one of the strongest fortresses of the Empire after Middenheim, though built in wood. Today it stands as a formidable bastion in the forests of the Drakwald, where many inhabitants of Middenland have taken refuge, as it is one of the safest places in the region. The engineering applied is exquisite; I would not be surprised if dwarfen knowledge had been involved in its design. The Elector Count maintains a close friendship with the dawi, which places him in an enviable position regarding knowledge and secrets. Proof of this is his gromril plate armor, which shone at the last banquet as testimony of that relationship.

The only drawback with Elector Count Albrech is that he is an extremely reserved man. He does not like to share the tales of his campaigns, and lately I have tried—without success—to inquire about the war for Marienburg, the battles fought there, and the performance of his weapons in those circumstances. There are even rumors of a cannon capable of firing multiple types of ammunition, though for now it is all scarce and fragmented hearsay, dependent on word of mouth, since much information is being controlled by the Cult of Sigmar after Albrech uncovered details of a cult in Altdorf that sought to attack the city and which is now being hunted down relentlessly.

What I still cannot understand is Elector Count Albrech himself. I have made every effort to offer him all the possible luxuries in the quarters I assigned to him, and yet I heard him tell his men that he would already be buying a mansion in the city, were it not that none are available. I confess I am puzzled, for I have done all within my power to ensure his satisfaction: an army of servants at his disposal, delicacies seasoned with the finest spices from Araby and Cathay, daily banquets where, though not always in his honor, I always ensured he was among us.

And still, nothing seems enough. Wherever he goes, he carries himself with an air of perpetual tension, as if at any moment someone might try to end his life. He has never removed his gromril armor since setting foot in the city, except when he washes it, every day, with the same unchanging rigor.

Even today, at a banquet I organized expressly in his honor, his demeanor did not improve—it worsened. He seemed so tense that one might have thought he would erupt into violence at any moment. And it would not be an exaggeration, for everyone knows that the feats of strength of Count Albrech are renowned throughout the Empire.

"Then, Elector Count Albrech, are you enjoying this occasion?" I asked with a broad smile as I approached to greet one of the members of the most prestigious embassies in Nuln.

"Yes…" he replied curtly, lying shamelessly only so as not to offend me. "Konstantin, when will the competition finally take place? I appreciate all this, but I have come essentially for the firearms competition. Nothing more. I do not care much for these gatherings."

"Soon… very soon," I said as we walked. "We are settling the bureaucracy for the registration of minor gunsmiths in this competition."

"No one has spoken to me about that paperwork," the Elector Count replied, fixing me with a stern gaze.

"No, no, of course not. That information is only to know who represents each weapon. Such a requirement would never be made of you, Count Albrech. The entire Empire knows your name and your glory for the recovery of Marienburg. It is unnecessary to request from you data that is already public knowledge," I answered quickly, trying to dispel his suspicion.

"Ah… I see," said Albrech, stopping in front of the Kislevite embassy's entourage.

"Friends of the Empire…" I exclaimed, approaching the group of Kislevites who were eating and drinking at a table prepared with the utmost care. I had sought to replicate even the smallest detail of their traditional Kislevite cuisine. "Princess Katarin of Kislev, I hope everything is to your liking. I have done the impossible to recreate the flavors of your land."

"In the name of my grandfather, the great Tzar of Kislev, I thank you for your concern," replied the princess in an icy tone.

I then noticed how one of the amulets of the Cult of Sigmar, embedded in Albrech's armor, began to vibrate in the presence of the young woman. "It must be the ice magic of Kislev that is activating my amulet…" said the Count, watching the princess intently.

"If you are thinking of burning her, you will have to go through me first, noble," one of the Ice Guard immediately intervened, stepping forward with her hand on the hilt of her weapon.

I tensed immediately. Knowing the Count, it could turn into a bloodbath. But I watched him calmly. He didn't lunge forward—which was a miracle in itself. He first looked at the princess, then at the guard, and back at the princess again, raising his hand as if waiting for her signal before drawing his blade.

"Enough. He did not mean to offend us," Katarin settled the matter with calm authority.

"As I said, it was an act of the Cult of Sigmar. I allowed it because the city was crawling with corrupt sects… But it would not be wise to break our newly signed trade agreement with Kislev over a simple misunderstanding," Albrech replied firmly.

"Setting that aside—" I intervened with a diplomatic smile, "I understand you intend to present weapons made in Kislev in this competition. May I ask about the weapon in question, and whether you have the capacity to produce on the scale required should you win?"

"The Motherland, though not yet capable of mass production, could achieve it with Imperial funds to develop our industry," answered the princess, signaling to one of her men. He brought forth a strange arquebus to which an axe had been attached.

"May I?" Count Albrech asked, extending his hand.

"Do you know how to handle it?" the Kislevite guard replied with distrust.

"Count Albrech is one of the finest men in the Empire with firearms. He has tested them in real combat," I assured, to ease the tension.

The guard looked to his princess. She nodded, and the weapon changed hands.

"Heavy…" was Albrech's first remark, bluntly. ". I see it's matchlock… so, I deduce a lack of technical knowledge, yes?"

The Kislevite did not reply. Albrech continued: "The barrel is unrifled, which reduces accuracy. And I see irregularities in the iron—signs the temperature wasn't properly kept during forging. Still, the ergonomics are surprising, even with the axe. Overall… it's a decent weapon." He handed the arquebus back to the guard, who received it with clear displeasure.

"He speaks as if he were a master gunsmith," Princess Katarin said.

"I move among the dawi. I've seen quality," Albrech replied, pulling out a pistol and handing it to the Kislevites. "For men, it is a good weapon. For dwarfs… it would be cheap trash."

"The barrel is too small," one of them objected immediately, sharply.

"It uses this type of ammunition," Albrech explained, showing a different projectile. "Designed to improve accuracy and penetration, at the cost of the brute impact of a larger lead ball."

"Impressive… impressive. Will this be the level of weapons you present in the competition? An admirable level of innovation…" I said, carefully taking the projectile to examine it. "May I?" I gestured toward his other pistol.

"Of course," the Count replied, handing me his second pistol.

I loaded it step by step. The barrel was rifled, and the shot fit with ease. It was evident this had been crafted by hand, with extraordinary care. This competition would certainly reveal much of the dawi's marvels.

"Clearly, it is only a pistol and cannot compare much to a musket from my forges… but tell me, Princess Katarin, would you be interested in placing an order of weapons in your grandfather's name?" Albrech said with a smile.

"Excuse me for a moment," I said to the Kislevites as they inspected the pistol, pulling Albrech slightly aside. "It is not wise to sell weapons to the Kislevites when the Imperial armies are not yet fully equipped with the best armament—which will surely win. I have seen nothing close to what has been shown at the University of Nuln, so your muskets will certainly prevail," I told Count Albrech.

"I know…" Albrech said calmly, though his smile was sharp. "But I will need many clients in the future, and I think selling lower-quality weapons to the Kislevites might be prudent. It would give me income to expand my modest production into something more general. Besides, the best weapons will always be reserved for the Empire. When the competition arrives, I will unveil what my gunsmiths have created and what my alchemists have devised… something so astonishing you'll be left drooling at the sight."

"What is it?" I asked with interest, leaning toward him.

There was no answer. Only that impenetrable smile.

"Come now, Elector Count Albrech, what is it? Some new type of percussion? A safer method of producing gunpowder? Or perhaps that multi-shot cannon rumored to have been used in Marienburg?" I pressed.

Silence. The smile remained.

We returned to the Kislevites, who handed the pistol back as the princess began negotiating with the Count about the price and quantities of arms she could purchase with the permits granted to her ambassador in the Empire. The talks progressed coldly, until Albrech finally spoke.

"Just one question before closing any future deal…" he said harshly, fixing his eyes on the princess. "Will these weapons be used to raid Imperial lands, as you do every year?"

"Such actions are not carried out by the Tzar, Elector Count," the princess replied.

"Yes, but that was not my question. Will Kislevite raids on the Empire continue, as they do every year?" he pressed again, making the Kislevites tense.

"I will inform my grandfather, the great Tzar, of your grievance… We will try to identify which boyars are responsible for such actions," the princess said.

"Good… then we can agree on a price," he concluded with a smile.

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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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