You're the Queen - Now What? [CK2ish Character-Focused Quest]

The Keeper of Correspondence, or the equivalent title in other realms, as a glorified secretary that had, over the many years, accumulated a host of secondary tasks and functions, becoming the de facto leader of the civil service in every realm where something similar existed.

As a result, while Rykall's main job was sorting through petitions and passing them on where needed, sorting through other letters and passing those on, and using the clerks to gather data on the state of realm. One of those jobs was the handling of the paperwork mercantile companies created when interfacing with the realm.

Unlike in Eaglecrest and Port Lest, companies didn't need to file paperwork and obtain licenses to do business within most of the rest of Halrun, or file applications to exist. But to become a supplier for the army, or to purchase from the crown or from crown holdings (such as farms owned by the crown) and so forth, then yes, applications and filings had to be sent in.

As too did similar filings need to be made when trading companies leased out land in the Crown Reserves - it remained the crowns land, not sold, merely rented out - but the whole point of the Crown Reserve was that there weren't many people available to put it to use, so if someone wanted to pay to get some temporary value from it...

Usually it was for some logging rights or mining rights, and the paperwork process was simple enough. At any given time, various entities had those rights, and that's where the income from the Crown Reserves came. Such as it was.

And all those filings went through Rykall's office. Most could be handed off to his clerks, but Rykall still liked to check over their work, keep abreast of what was happening, when he had the time, and something had been bothering him all week, and now he had had the time to dig through old paperwork and revenue documents to check something.

"Tell me what this is, Sumel." Rykall pushed a paper over to one of his clerks, keeping his hand over part of it. Sumel had been a hard worker, both under the previous regime and now himself. Sumel had never stuck his neck out like Rykall had, but then, Sumel had always been less idealistic and more just about the organization of it all. Rykall knew some of the others on the Inner Council found him... strange, but Sumel was in a league all his own, fidgety, obsessed with order and having everything match up (he had to make sure all his quills were exactly the same length before he went home at the end of the day, among many other things) and did not react to change in his personal environment well.

Rykall had had to explicitly order the cleaning staff to never go into Sumel's office. Sumel kept the place tidy enough, but the cleaners could move the wrong thing and make the capable, but easily provoked man go off when he came in the next day.

"It - it appears to be a renewal of a license to exploitation of a specifically allotted section of the Southeastern Crown Reserve." Sumel said, hands tapping un the underside of the table as he looked at the paper.

"Indeed." Rykall tapped part of it. "The Ebon Dragon Trading Company, in a bit of a risky venture, decided to pay the Crown - Syrokis, at the time - a rather large sum," amounting to 8 Dureks, which was less on the scale of monarchs, but for an individual merchant company, it could be quite substantive, "as well as a further fee every three months," amounting to about a quarter of a Durek, which would of course add up, "to have exclusive rights to all items of value recovered from a Necrotic-era ruin within the Thornwood, the portion within the Southeastern Crown Reserve. The place is widely assumed to have been picked clean, but Ebon Dragon was convinced there were significant valuables that could be recovered from collapsed tunnels and a purported 'secret underlevel'." Rykall was taking his time to get to the point, watching Sumel carefully as he spoke."

"As I understand it, Crown is supposed to get half the value of any Necrotic artifact or item recovered from Crown territory." Sumel frowned. "That is still the law, has been since the days of Teran, despite several attempts by Eaglecrest to change that during the reign of Brunn, in fact-"

Rykall cut him off, "I'm well aware. It would seem in this case my predecessor decided that the prospect of value from this ruin was so low he wanted the money up front. Now, I was able to find the paperwork verifying that money went into the treasury, but what I wasn't able to find was any paperwork verifying that the followup fees were ever collected. Even before the civil war. This license was granted five years ago originally."

"If - if they didn't pay... how was the license renewed last month?" Sumel asked. "How did - your predecessor... he didn't take the Crown's cut lightly."

"No, he didn't. I'm not entirely sure why he never followed up on this, but the real matter for my concern right now is this," he removed his hand. "Is that, or is that not your personal stamp, verifying this renewal?"

Sumel blinked, staring at the wax seal at the top of the document.

One of Rykall's innovations to prevent what he had done to Syrokis from going undetected if someone tried to do it to the new regime was issuing specific stamps to every clerk. Stamps every single clerk was to keep on their person or locked within a drawer in their desks that only they (and not even Rykall) was to have a key to. Every piece of paperwork approved, signed or authorized by one of the clerks was stamped with that seal. .

Rykall wasn't an idiot, people could still 'borrow' the stamp of another in theory, but Rykall had driven the importance of everyone's stamp into their heads and the firing after two days of a clerk who had set his stamp down in the open for a few minutes had, he'd thought, put the wrath of Maedon into all of them.

"I never stamped this,"

"I'm quite certain you did." Rykall tapped the wax gently.

"I didn't!" Sumel protested. He swallowed, repeating himself, louder, tapping the table harder. "I never stamped this!"

"Then how did your stamp show up in this seal?" Rykall demanded. "The Ebon Dragon Trading Company somehow managed to get their license renewed, despite owing the crown 10 Dureks. A rather princely sum for a single company to owe for this sort of thing.

Sumel had, as far as Rykall had known him, never lied. He was also always pathetically easy to read, and had long since avoided any card games among the clerks. I rather miss those. Penalties of promotions, Rykall considered. Not that he had time to play cards anymore anyway.

And so far, the man seemed to be genuine. Agitated. Confused. Worried.

"Rykal - I - Sir, you -" Sumel wrapped his arms around his torso, hugging himself, biting his lower lip for a long moment. "I have never seen this renewal application in my life! You have to believe me sir!"

"I want to believe you. But that means you let someone else get ahold of your stamp, and that's just as much an offense I'll have to fire you for. As it stands, you're not going to stay employed among the clerks unless you can give me a satisfactory explanation. The only question is are you going to be facing the prospect of prison for corruption and mishandling of crown funds, or just termination for incompetence!" Rykall didn't want to play hardball like this, not with Sumel, but if Sumel really had misplaced his stamp, or let someone borrow it, than anything stamped with it would need to be rechecked. And if he was corrupt, then what else could he have done?

"I - I don't - I don't have-" Sumel looked at the stamp again. "I - this - I never - you have to-" Sumel babbled, denying that he did anything wrong, or that he ever let his stamp out of his sight or out of his pocket. He pulled it from his robes, as if to prove the issue, but that didn't prove he'd never previously mishandled it. Or that he hadn't approved the liscence himself, either out of negligence, or for something in return.

In of itself, the missing ten Dureks over the last five years was not the primary concern, but the risk of something happening among his clerks.

Someone had stamped this renewal. And done so with none of the payments ever made. Someone was incompetent or corrupt, and either way, that needed to be dealt with, soon.

Rykall rapped his knuckles against his desk loudly, and the door to his office opened, two guards coming in.

"Please detain this clerk for the time being." Rykall asked. "In one of the rooms, rather than a cell, if at all possible. He may not be guilty of anything more than incompetence, but I can't take that risk until this is resolved."

EBON DRAGON TRADING COMPANY 'SIDEQUEST' BEGUN

[ ][SUMEL] Hand the entire matter over to Keeper Itrick and his Investigators to investigate the Clerks, investigate Sumel and the other clerks, and verify if he's telling the truth, or who might have used his stamp or what. (Will apply a 10% penalty to any council action Itrick Grosdan performs next turn, as the investigation will tie up resources and manpower) (Uses Itrick's Stats/Trait) (Base Chance: 44% + Intrigue)*
[ ][SUMEL] Rykall will investigate the matter himself (Base Chance 37% + Intrigue)*

[ ][EBON DRAGON] Ask Lady Balmain to have the Reeves of the Southeastern Crown Reserve travel to the ruin in question to see what's going on (Will apply 5% Penalty to any Council Action Lady Balmain takes next turn) (May Not Turn Up Useful Information) (No Roll Required)
[ ][EBON DRAGON] Ask Count Vallefor To Look Into Ebon Dragon Trading Company (Will Apply 5% Penalty to any action Count Vallefor Takes next Turn) (May Not Turn Up Useful Information) (No Roll Required)
[ ][EBON DRAGON] Rykall will reach out to his merchant contacts and follow up on the Ebon Dragon Trading Company (Will tie up Rykall's Council Action Next Turn) (May Not Turn Up Useful Information) (Base Chance 46% + Diplomacy + Intrigue)
[ ][EBON DRAGON] Rykall Will investigate the paperwork archives for more information on Ebon Dragon Trading Company or this ruin (Will tie up Rykall's Council Action Next Turn) (May Not Turn Up Useful Information) (Base Chance 40% + Intrigue + Learning)*
[ ][EBON DRAGON] Rykall Will Wait Until the Investigation of Sumel has run its Course

---

In an effort to get to know the officer corps better, Rienne had been holding dinners at her home in the capital with officers in the Grand Duchy, and planned on extending further invitations to officers in Ashdan March and the Thornmarch, and beyond, as could be safely arranged.

They were not large affairs, only ten or so officers at a time, and she was not pushing to impress, beyond having good (but not extravagant) food, and making sure her home - well, manor - didn't look terrible. Rienne was still in the process of taking stock of her overall financial situation and didn't want to go too far.

And frankly, those of her officers who turned up their noses at two courses and a dining hall somewhat spartanly decorated were not really the kind of officer she wanted to cultivate.

"You can't possibly be serious!" One officer said, the food mostly finished. The officer leaned forward, cup of wine in hand, face a little flushed from drink, but not stirring his words. "General Naperion's crossing of the Lortans and his subjugation of Osorien is a masterstroke of strategy!"

"It was an idiotic gamble that was only saved because the dwarves were in the mood to be bought that decade. And buying them cost the Empire resources it really didn't have to spare," another officer countered. She'd drunk very little wine during the dinner.

"The logistics of that crossing, even with the dwarves acquiescence was hardly - i mean theres a reason why most trade from Osorien goes underground, directly through Dwarven tunnels and caverns rather than overland." A third officer noted.

"And that's another reason Naperion's whole scheme was insane. Yes, fine, Osorien financed a few attempted rebellions. That's the sort of thing you respond to with financed rebellions of your own, an assassination or two, or just sending some necromancers to raise bodies there. Not like the Sunscorch Sea doesn't have plenty." The sober woman shook her head. "Instead, he left himself on the end of a supply line that-"

"Supply line!? His army was 75% undead! They don't need supplies!"

"Right, and so undead archers can just shoot nothing at their foes then?"

In an interest to understand her officers strategic thinking, and to spur some conversation, she'd posed questions of history and strategy at each dinner. Things had gotten heated, as they were now, but nothing had ever crossed the line to shouting, and it didn't look to be doing that here either.

"I think," Rienne cut him, gently, "the greater question requires some perspective. Naperion's actions came during a rather pivotal time. Does it profit a general to gain a vassal and lose an empire?"

"High Marshall, you can't be on her side!?" The first officer nearly pleaded.

"I'm not sure you can say I am," Rienne countered, raising an eyebrow. "Think on them carefully, Captain."

---

If people thought about the job of being a spymaster at all, they likely expected the job to be more exciting than it was. Or at the very least, they imagined it was about getting people inside the homes of nobility, or inside the command structures of armies and so forth. And that was absolutely something that happened.

He had people inside the homes and retinues of several Morvakian generals, after all. And while he was quite certain his own household had no spies, he could hardly be sure about Balmain - she wasn't an idiot, much to Vallefor's annoyance, but she didn't think like a spy, much to his gain. And if there weren't spies in the palace servants, then Vallefor would eat his rapier, point first.

Not that he or the Royal Guard made it easy for said spies to get information, of course. Things of greatest import were protected by locked doors, limited access and regular guards.

But really, the real work of spying was not done in the homes and palaces and command tents of the enemy.

No.

It was about having agents in the taverns, the gambling houses, the brothels. Any locale that the rank and file soldiers, the mid-rank bureaucrats and the more trusted servants of nobles and other elites might be gathering in their off time. Much of the work of being a spy and ultimately, a spymaster, was listening, figuring out what might be important, and sending it on.

A good agent made friends, gathered contacts, and had a good reason why they were always asking questions - merchant factor, busybody, insatiably curious. And of course, they knew when not to ask questions, and how to ask questions safely.

It was from all this ground-level information that making better judgements on who you needed to plant further, more skilled spies on, where you needed to focus your efforts.

It was, of course, impossible to put a man or woman inside every single tavern, alehouse, gambling den or brothel in the entire Kingdom. But then, that was one of the reasons he had this job.

He was quite good at knowing which ones to start with.

---

Into the tray went the distilled water. Into the tray went her magic. Vanessa had to admit that when she honed her talents for scrying as a teenager, building on that native ability for farsight, she'd never expected to use it for this. She'd figured she'd use it to help one patron or another spy on their rivals. Maybe get some information that might be useful for investments.

Even something as boring and mundane as checking to see if someone's husband or wife had proven to be unfaithful.

Scrying on Kingdoms and Nations... Well, you could just try to spy on the King - Baragad Rak-Tilgak ruled the Red Spear - and see what turned up, but the Red Spear were sophisticated enough to put up some sort of wards against scrying in the places where the King made their most important deliberations. And in time, she might try to penetrate those. She was pretty sure she could, all said and done.

But not necessarily without getting noticed.

And she didn't need to. Kingdoms didn't march to war without preparation, pre-empting, and plans for the future sent ripples outward that scrying could detect. And so she closed her eyes, and held her hand out. She wanted to know what the Kingdom of the Red Spear was up to, but more importantly, she wanted to know if they posed any immediate threat to Halrun.

A village. Built in the shell of some ruined structure dating back centuries, cyclopean stone walls now crumbled and longside abandoned, overgrown with vines and moss and grass. Wooden huts, some quality constructions, many more shacks made from scrap and cloth as much as real useful wood. Goblins - green, humanoid, sharp teeth. It was a remarkable trait of goblins that the more well-fed they were, the taller they grew, sometimes quite rapidly. Most were thus four-feet or so tall, scraping out a small life in the village, hunting, farming tubers, scrounging. The chieftain and those who fought under him in raids and battles and enforced his will were taller - the chieftain and his wives were all six feet.

In the distance, something coming, as the chieftain tried to beat his tribe into position, shouting, hitting, directly, passing out weapons, from quality steel swords to spears that were little better than sharpened sticks. There were a lot of goblins crawling out of every crack and crevice, but most were small, the elite staying by the chieftain as the something came -

Wolves. Massive wolves the size of horses. It was only a few dozen of them, leading a column of goblins, tall, well armored in boiled leather and cuirasses, armed with swords and axes, archers behind them. All marched under a banner of a red spear on a brown background. The wolves snarled and bounded ahead, crossing terrain, leaping over broken walls and landing among the smaller goblins, the tribals, ripping heads off, as their riders drove long spears into others.

Everything shifted, and then Vanessa saw the chieftain and his elite, his wives and the wives of his elite dead, their bodies hung up to bake in a new sun, the remaining tribal goblins rounded up, large wagons with cages made from solid wood. The smaller tribals were forced into cages, dragged from their home, some screaming and crying and begging, others too traumatized by their defeat... the tribe was leaving nearly half it's number behind as battlefield casualties or the executed. The battlefield casualties left to rot on the dirt.

Vanessa swallowed, head aching for a moment. She could still smell the blood, the death, the shit, the bodies starting to reek in the sun. The fear on the tribal goblins being herded away into a life of slavery, or something close, at least, by the Red Spear.

Her scrying wouldn't have shown her this one instance unless it was emblematic of more. The Red Spear were moving en masse against the tribal goblins. Not taking over one small village or one nomadic group at a time at most, as was their wont. Territory didn't even seem to be their goal.

Labor. Manpower. Vanessa was no expert on goblins, but she couldn't tell if she should be worried they were gathering manpower for a potential conquest, or if they just wanted more hands to work the fields.

But once Trins adventurer associates reported back, they might be able to put that together with this. Vanessa's gut told her that if the Red Spear posed an immediate threat to Halrun, she'd have seen something more clearly pointing to that.

---

"Your majesty, it's not that we don't understand that realm needs more money" one of the merchant representatives said. Vanessa wasn't holding this meeting in the same room she met with the Inner Council, but though she'd debated having it in the throne room, she'd settled for a smaller audience chamber, though of course - of course - it was built such that her chair was on a raised, elevated position relative to the others.

"We do understand," another noted. "But the reality is, if you raise the fees at the docks under current conditions, it will cut too much into our profits to justify the current volume of trade. You'd be making less money in the end."

"That sounds strangely close to a threat," Vanessa mused, arching her eyebrow. "Should I take it as one?"

"I - no, your majesty, of course not, Merely - merely a statement of fact."

"I can't imagine the state of the roads is doing much for your profits either, even if more indirectly." Vanessa considered. "As it stands, rebuilding the roads while handling everything else is expensive."

"Surely there are other ways the Crown can find the revenues,"

"Certainly. I could raise takes on the Lordships and have a whole new rebellion on my hands," Vanessa suggested. "I could reduce the army further and Morvak might decide now is a lovely time to cross the border. I wonder what that would do to your profits."

"War with Morvak, provided it stays in the Thornmarch, would probably do wonders for our profits in the short to medium term," another merchant answered flatly. Several of his fellows made sounds of protest or disagreement, but he looked at them all, "tell me I'm wrong." None did. "That said, if you cut the army too much, there's no promise Morvak keeps to the Thornmarch."

Murmurs, some agreement, some not.

"Which brings us back to my dilemma. Through no fault of my own, the Kingdom is under some rather substantive debt. And we need to rebuild the roads. And deal with a thousand and one other problems. Banditry, for instance. And all of that requires more Dureks. Legally, I have the authority to raise the customs fees at all the docks on Lake Raida largely as I see fit. Practically, as you say, there are barriers to doing that."

"Which is why we're here." The same practical-minded merchant had noted. He looked at his fellows, "Look, I'd rather not be here for days debating in circles. We all know what we want, right? The traders I'm representing aren't the only ones being hurt by the increased theft and assaults in the docks districts of Eridia, Tairos and Couron."

The assembled men and women of wealth all grumbled, muttering amongst themselves, but one by one they all confirmed as much.

"Crime is just a cost of doing business, but during the war, it skyrocketed on the docks, and it hasn't gone down enough since." The first representative to speak finally said. "And it's cutting into our profits too."

"This is the first I'm hearing of it."

"Begging your pardon, your majesty, but I imagine a lot of things happen in the cities of the Kingdom that doesn't make it to your ears."

Vanessa had to grant that. Though she didn't say anything.

It took another few hours - still, at least not a week - but in the end, an agreement was raised. An increase of the dues and charges collected at and near the docks by ten percent, and a doubling of the guards in the docks district of all three Lake Raida cities. That way, the merchants wouldn't see their profits drop too much, and the crown was very likely to see a noticeable increase in revenue.

Vanessa could hire more guards, or redirect guards from other parts of the cities.

[ ][DOCK DEAL] Take The Deal (Agreeing to the proposal will increase revenues from the Grand Duchy of Raida Docking & Trade Fees by 2-4 Dureks/Month.)
-[ ]Redirect Guards from other parts of the cities - not large from any one area, just shave a few from each district or section - to increase the number in the docks. (No increased costs, risks increased crime in other parts of the city over time)
-[ ] Hire More Guards (Raises the Sheriff & Reeves Cost for the Grand Duchy by 2 Dureks)
[ ][DOCK DEAL] Don't Take The Deal
-[ ]Raise the Fees Anyway (Revenues from Grand Duchy of Raida Docking and Trade Fees will go be modified within a range of -2 to +2; risks upsetting merchants)
-[ ]Don't Raise the Fees


Voting Is and Will Remain Open For The Next 72 Hours