Warhammer Fantasy:Steel and gunpowder

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"Damn it… this itches like hell! How the hell do you stand this torture?" I said, looking at Joachim while adjusting the shirt they had lent me for the banquet.

"What are you talking about, Albrecht? That's comfortable clothing… it's silk from Tilea, extremely expensive," Joachim replied, glancing around with a satisfied expression.

"How can this be comfortable?" I muttered, trying to soften the hard shoes I was wearing. "This is more like punishment."

"Well, get used to it," Joachim replied, unfazed. "I don't know how the hell you killed that Bretonnian, but now you've got to live with the consequences."

It was one thing to be a cupbearer at these celebrations, where I only had to stay still and avoid attracting attention from the nobles and their nonsense. But now, I was trapped, turned into the center of attention. The Margrave had arranged a feast to celebrate the victory over Bretonnia, taking advantage of the fact that the Duke of Montfort had declared that the attack had been initiated by his forces and that their defeat had come at the hands of the Empire. The Margrave was so pleased he decided to throw a huge celebration—and of course, I was now caught in it, being observed by the entire Helmgart court.

The nobles looked delighted, and I felt completely out of place, barely fitting in this world no matter how noble my birth might be. I didn't like being at the center of it all—between the music, the noise, and the laughter. I could ignore all that if they would just ignore me, but they didn't. All eyes were on me, everyone eager to hear how I had killed one of Bretonnia's knights.

"I just pulled the trigger… though surviving long enough to do it was the real achievement," I said while following Joachim, who was heading over to watch some of the dances.

"Typical von Reinsfeld stuff, huh?" said Joachim, pausing for a second, clearly holding back an insult.

"Yeah, but I don't get why your father is so set on throwing this party. The victory over the Bretonnians was months ago. If he wanted to mock the Duke of Montfort, that time has passed," I said while watching some of the strange dances being performed.

"It's never too late to celebrate. Besides, we were waiting for something," Joachim said with a smile that didn't convince me at all.

"Waiting for what?" I asked him.

"Wait and see," he said, wearing a very fake smile.

"Blessings of Sigmar, noble Albrecht," said a voice behind me.

Turning around, I found a finely dressed woman, accompanied by an elegant maid and a young girl nervously holding an embroidered handkerchief.

"Young von Reinsfeld, allow me to present my daughter, Miss Elisa. Her father, Baron Luchsberg, is a good friend of your honorable father. He has heard of your… unusual bravery. Elisa, my dear, go on," the mother said, smiling and stepping back.

"Really? A friend of my father? Miracles do exist," I said, staring straight at the mother.

"Bless… blessings of Sigmar, Albrecht. I heard of your great feat. It must have been a tremendous display of courage," said the daughter, handing me the embroidered handkerchief.

"My lady, forgive this uncultured brute. As you can see, due to his young age, he doesn't fully understand the etiquette of these events," Joachim said, taking the handkerchief and placing it in one of my pockets, leaving the heraldry clearly visible.

"Ha, ha, it must all be so sudden, noble servant of Sigmar. I was wondering if you'd like to join me in viewing Helmgart's gardens. They're beautiful this time of year, and I could show you around," Elisa said.

"I know them very well. For the past few years, I've been the one maintaining them—especially the rose bushes," I replied, trying to escape the situation.

"Then… you could show me. I'd love to hear about how you cared for such a magnificent and beautiful garden," she insisted again.

"Ah… no… I can't leave, since I'm a guest of honor… perhaps another day. It wouldn't be proper to abandon an event so carefully prepared by our noble host. I couldn't dishonor him by leaving early," I replied again, trying to shut it down.

"I understand… I hope we can speak soon," she said, putting on a sad face before walking away with her mother, the maid following behind.

"So this is what you meant, having to endure all this?" I asked, looking at Joachim.

"It's not that bad. I highly doubt they're actually friends with your father. Your father has no friends—only people who fear him, or people he must obey. But they're clearly trying to get close to you. Baron Luchsberg has lost much of his wealth supporting political careers, so I'd bet they've already got that information on hand," Joachim said.

"What information?" I asked again, confused.

"You'll find out soon enough. But know this—there are families that see you as a chest full of gold. Eleven years old and already a distinguished soldier—many families would love to tie you down, including my own. Later this afternoon, after the event, you'll be introduced to my cousin. Though, well… between us, she's quite ugly. That probably explains why she's still unmarried. So brace yourself. It won't be easy, especially with how much you hate all this," said Joachim.

"Well, if it cheers you up, father's planning a spring campaign to clear the orcs from the mountains. There've been some attacks, so it's necessary to deal with the green menace. He'll definitely send you along—and me too, of course. Though it's a bad omen that your last knight died under your watch, but still, I'd rather have you at my side knowing you're not the type to flee. You just become a lot more dangerous," Joachim said.

"I'll need more gunpowder. I ran out after my trip through Bretonnia, so I'll have to visit an alchemist. I've gotten the hang of my arquebus. Apparently, it takes a few practice shots to really understand how the bullets move through the air," I replied.

"Stop by the alchemist and stock up on vials, but make sure they're properly sealed. If it rains, your powder's useless—and that's not great when fighting orcs. So make sure you're well prepared," Joachim said.

"This is all so awful…" I muttered, feeling someone approaching from behind again.

"Albrecht…" said a familiar voice. "Good… the Emperor's envoy has arrived," added the Margrave.

I turned quickly and saw the Margrave, dressed in elaborate garments adorned with the emblems of his house.

"So, what happens now? I have an idea of what's going on, but I've no clue what I'm supposed to do," I said with a slight smile.

"Yes, that's why I'm here, Albrecht—to explain things so you don't stand there with a dumb look on your face while they're giving you the honors. You will treat the Emperor's envoy with utmost respect, always addressing him as 'my lord' or 'your lordship'. Always give thanks to me, to the Emperor, and to Sigmar for the honor of serving the Empire—and once again to Sigmar for protecting us in battle," said the Margrave.

"Your father and I spent a long time in Altdorf. The Emperor recommended that you be knighted, but he himself said it will happen when you turn fifteen. He'll personally knight you then, and you'll be given an immediate position in the Reiksguard. So you won't have to go through the usual squireship process. You'll become a member of the Emperor's guard the moment you turn fifteen. For that reason, the Emperor will gift you a young demi-griffon when you join the Reiksguard. So we'll need to continue your training diligently. There's been talk about gifting you a runic sword from our friends in the mountains, but that will depend on how many the Emperor receives. Many nobles are waiting on one, and the Emperor made promises. That's what's set aside for you," the Margrave said, looking straight at me.

"Great… a glorified bodyguard," I thought.

"Generous rewards indeed, Margrave," I replied with a wide smile.

"Yes, as for your father, the Emperor granted him some lands that were under his direct control. They're not worth much—just forests without villages. Not much use there. He also gave a generous payment in gold, but as I understand it, it was used to pay off the debts your father had accumulated—those he incurred to gain support and bribe officials for his mining rights. He was also granted toll rights for road usage toward Marienburg. And since there was a major political movement in the capital, the Emperor intervened and granted colonization rights on his lands, with the support of several Elector Counts and nobles present at court. He may now inform his freemen that they may travel to his territories to establish new settlements, in exchange for being tax-exempt for the next decade," the Margrave concluded.

"I guess father must've been pleased," I asked, as I hadn't seen him in some time.

"Yes, regarding you, he was proud. He wouldn't stop talking about how Sigmar had finally given him the heir he always wanted. Strange, considering your older brother is still alive. That's when he'd get angry—he spent a lot of time talking to judges about a deal to disinherit your older brother," said the Margrave with a grimace.

'Well… it's something he always mentioned. My brother's more of a bookworm… he never liked any of that,' I said, recalling father's constant complaints.

"Alright then, to your seat of honor—and do as I told you," said the Margrave, pointing toward the banquet table.

I slid into the chair, adopting a posture of readiness, while everything around me carried on. Music still echoed, and the dancers moved with grace—but something shifted immediately when the Emperor's envoy entered the hall. The music stopped abruptly, and the dancing ceased at once. Every eye turned toward him, watching in silence the man who bore the Emperor's emblems.

The silence was deep, almost tangible—like the air itself had thickened with expectation. The envoy, exuding solemn presence, ordered me to rise. His voice rang out in the hall as he unrolled a long scroll, which he began reading aloud.

With an imposing tone, he recited words I already knew—what the Margrave had told me earlier: that the Emperor would knight me at fifteen, and that I would be granted a demi-griffon. He deliberately omitted the part about the runic sword. He also spoke of my father, publicly detailing the same news the Margrave had already shared: the lands, the toll rights, the gold, and the colonization rights in the mining settlements.

At the end, I gave thanks as I had been instructed—bowing, invoking Sigmar's name—waiting to see the envoy's reaction. Apparently satisfied with my response, he nodded in approval, and the ceremony continued.

After the reading, I was quickly surrounded by the local nobility and guests. They repeated the same ritual I had seen before: mothers and fathers pushing their daughters forward to hand me embroidered handkerchiefs marked with their family heraldry—each trying in their own way to stand out and catch my attention, all under the constant gaze of their servants. It was clear this was political strategy beneath a thin veil of courtesy.

As conversations bloomed, subtle tensions started to rise. The nobles competed quietly among themselves, dropping veiled insults and snide remarks, each trying to undermine the others. More than one tried to find a way to speak with me about future engagements, eager to use their position. My name was already well known, and my father's reputation carried weight—his foul temper was infamous throughout Reikland so it was better to talk to me than to him..

Hours passed. While everyone kept playing their little political games, I just kept smiling, pretending to be interested in their words while quietly thinking about how to escape this torture. Best not to talk too much—for now—and wait for things to settle down.

Finally, after endless chatter, I returned to my seat, hoping for a moment of peace. But my rest didn't last long.

At the door, a knight appeared—covered in dust and mud. His presence clashed starkly with the elegant atmosphere, and immediately, all eyes turned to him. He paused for a moment, then without hesitation, walked straight toward me.

The Margrave's face tensed at once, visibly angered by the interruption. The knight, after a few seconds of silence, removed his helmet, revealing his face. I recognized him instantly, though he looked different. It was Rudolf—one of my father's knights—but with grayer hair and eyes full of exhaustion. Standing before me, he bowed deeply and knelt.

"My lord," he said, taking a long breath before continuing, "your lord father… morr has claimed his soul."

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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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