To the surprise of her subjects, the Elector Countess is once more in residence in Eagle Castle, and it takes an examination of the news from the EIC to understand why. Hunger Wood is being constantly patrolled by the Second Division, Tempelhof is firmly under the control of the Black Guard of Morr, and the First, Third and Fourth Divisions are garrisoned in Pfaffbach, Eisigfurt and Regrakhof respectively. The final openly-operating Vampires in Sylvania are hemmed in on all sides. To an amateur eye, it makes no sense that the campaign would be put on hold right when victory seems so close. But it makes perfect sense to those who know a little more about war against practitioners of necromancy.
"Sieges are supposed to be a science," Roswita says, frustration thick in her voice as she stares down at a map of the County of Waldenhof. "Food, water, defenders. Circumvallate and wait. They either surrender, or they get slaughtered by their own populace for not surrendering. But that doesn't apply here, not against them. Suffering strengthens them. Casualties reinforce them. They would grow stronger while a besieging force grows weaker."
Precisely what allowed Frederick Van Hal to defeat a quantitatively, qualitatively and logistically superior Skaven force when all he had was the dead and desperate.
You have to push through a necromancer all at one go, or not try at all.
You nod sympathetically, running your eye over the map. Judging by the force estimates, the forces of Mihnea in Mikalsdorf has suffered a great deal of casualties since you made off with a handful of his magical trinkets, while Ioana in Waldenhof has had her forces grow, possibly as a direct result. "Stockpiling, then?" The Army of Stirland grew dramatically in its number of cannon thanks to Anton's actions during the Purge of the Haunted Hills, but it's no simple thing to supply gunpowder to that many hungry guns.
Enuff Dakka needs to be prepared. With all the cannon and new guns I think they could chew through what used to be a year's supply in a month.
"And starving them in the meantime. Metaphorically, of course. 'Of the known Bloodlines, only the Strigoi are content with subsistence; the rest are dependent upon the existing economies of the Empire to supply their needs. The Von Carsteins seek to act as a Nation-State, and have the expenses to match. The Lahmians move within the upper strata of society, and rely upon money to smooth their way. The Necrarchs are forever hungry for new specimens, old tomes, and fragments of Wyrdstone to fuel their experiments. And the Blood Dragons are forever in need of replacements for their arms and armour, and demand the highest quality.'"
They're not human, but they're still people, as this shows. They have social and intellectual needs.
Damage their morale and they'd start acting irrationally.
I wonder how much of their quirks are bound in the bloodline versus the culture though.
It has the ring of quotation to it, but you don't recognize the words. "Who said that?"
She hesitates, a touch of pink coming to her cheeks. "I did," she says at last. "I was writing a dissertation on it for the Order before all this."
You smile as a few things make sense. "Your Steward, the exciseman. You've been putting the theory to practice."
She nods, but there's a stiffness to her expression as she does. "It worked. Better than I expected."
"Alkharad." She nods. "You weren't just cutting off his hobby materials. You inadvertently undermined his entire project in Teufelheim."
She nods. "Until we examined his books, I had assumed it was Vampiric megalomania, an overreaction to an inconvenience. But judging by the prices he was being forced to pay for the luxuries that must have been going towards..." She glances around the room. "The others involved in the project, we were hitting him hard and costing him dearly." The personal meeting room of the Elector Countess of Stirland is possibly the most secure place in the province, but the Templars of Sigmar are almost as thorough at inculcating paranoia as the Grey College. "So now we apply the same to those two Lahmians."
Economic warfare on vampires.
Man, wouldn't fancy being Alkharad when he realized his little College of Necromancy was going to turn on him for lack of the luxuries and research materials needed to stay interested and committed.
And of course, more hints that preconceptions poison everything.
As it turns out her entire Council was picked with Fuck Vampires in mind.
Except for the Church of Sigmar sending trash.
You frown and try to recall. There was a time when you could recite the Gazetteer of Greater Stirland from memory, but nowadays that same part of your brain was occupied with more southerly concerns. But Hel Fenn on the map jogs your memory. "Peat," you say. While burned as fuel in some places, most of it ended up in Nuln or the Karaks, where it would be subject to a careful process that, if done correctly, would transform it into peat-coal, a substance that burns hotter and cleaner than even the finest charcoal.
Mmm, well, Mathilde isn't exactly a smith so that can't be faulted, but actually coked coal(or peat) actually burns as cleanly and as hotly as equivalent quality charcoal per unit weight. The difference is mainly in compaction, peat and coal are already compacted by gravity and decomposition, while wood is full of water and volatiles, so the resultant charcoal then is a LOT more porous than coke unless you compress it(and naturally compressing charcoal like that is a lot of work).
The volume difference is about halved.
So mostly the actual difference is that it takes twice as many trips for your poor apprentice running charcoal versus coke, assuming they are swole enough(and as smiths they're pretty swole, so they'd rather haul a 40kg sack of coke once than 2 20 kg sacks of charcoal).
"Who's buying?"
"The roads are ours, but the Stir is not so easily blockaded. The Margravine of Essen has already been pressured by the Chancellor of Hertwig, as he has no desire to see all the hard work in the Dead Wood go to waste, and I know they're not coming as far downriver as Wurtbad. But that still leaves four major cities on the other side of the Stir. So the current battlefield is in Talabeclander courts, not Sylvanian moors." You grimace in sympathy. "Still, if I am defeated there, it will be because they expended some of their dwindling resources on bribes. By the time that plays out, I'll have stockpiled enough gunpowder for us to march on Mikalsdorf and resolve the siege through bombardment instead of starving them out."
This is big brain strategy.
The Stirlander courtly strategy is a direct thrust with appeal to faith, Stirland technically doesn't need to spend any money on this battle, their appeal is just for the provinces to do their sacred and legal duties to enforce against smuggling. They just need their diplomat to keep at it.
The vampires have to bribe and blackmail liberally to keep the backchannels open. They aren't a coordinated force, so its quite possible that the courtiers they're bribing are making mad bank by double or even triple dipping on the same bribes....and it doesn't matter to Roswita in the long run because its a diversion, she's waiting for enough dakka to just reduce their entire towns to rubble if she had to.
Mathilde may have set an example there at Drakenhof...
You nod thoughtfully. "Even then, you must be cautious," you say, in the tone of one imparting sage advice. "The walls of Mikalsdorf will be able to withstand cannonfire better than you might expect, as it is certain that the Vampire will rampire."
By the time your words register you're already out the door and halfway through the corridor, but her sigh is still clearly audible, and you can't keep yourself from giggling all the way to your next meeting.
rampire transitive verb
archaic
: to fortify, strengthen, secure, or enclose with or as if with a rampart
I learned something today.
When you arrive at your scheduled meeting to catch up with Wilhelmina, you're surprised to see a second person waiting for you, and doubly surprised that it's a girl of perhaps eight, dark hair in a neat ponytail and her simple yellow dress only slightly marred by inkstains. "Mathilde," Wilhelmina says, "I'd like to introduce you to my granddaughter, Eike Hochschild."
You conceal your surprise with long practice and give the girl a short bow. "Good day, Miss Eike."
The girl has an expression of intense concentration on her face as she curtsies. "At your service..." Then she frowns and closes her eyes as she mumbles to herself, then she turns and looks up at Wilhelmina beseechingly.
"Context, Eike," Wilhelmina says gently. "She is here as a partner in the EIC, so her title in Stirland is foremost."
"At your service, Dame Weber!" She says in a rush, as if trying to catch up.
"Good girl. Go help Reinecke with the filing."
As the girl patters away at a pace just short of a jog, you give Wilhelmina a searching look.
Cute kid.
"Didn't think you'd take a second run at motherhood."
She takes a seat at the table and you follow suit. "Me neither. After I decided against snatching up Anton for myself, I'd resigned myself to the EIC passing on to him and you and Stirland when I passed. But sometimes, the Gods provide."
"And I didn't know you were a grandmother."
"Neither did I, until just recently. Her mother was apparently the kept woman of my third son. They fell out and she moved on to a new patron, with Eike on the way. Last year she was caught in a pox outbreak in Nuln, and with the scars she got, she didn't have any beauty left to sell. She came to my son looking for an arrangement, and did so in public, and it was the talk of the town for weeks when he rebuffed her. I had her brought to me, and sent her on her way with some money and no Eike."
"You bought her?" You ask, keeping your voice neutral.
She nods once, not a trace of shame on her face. "If she'd said no to my offer, I'd have set her and Eike up in a house here in Wurtbad. But she didn't. Maybe she thought Eike would be better off with me, or maybe she was fine with the idea of selling her own flesh and blood. I don't know her well enough to judge."
Both a test and the more expedient thing.
Buying the kid leaves Wilhelmina with a free hand in her upbringing.
If the mother refused to sell, then perhaps she could instill some desirable values. But as it is, a mother willing to sell their child is less likely to be much of a positive influence in any case
News here in Stirland matches what you heard from Roswita, and Karag Nar continues to be in sky-high spirits with no trace of any problems brewing. The information the EIC is absorbing from further afield makes it clear that the major gossip in this part of the Empire is about canals - specifically, the one being built by Ostermark and Karak Kadrin to bridge the Stir and the Talabec.
"Still no firm date of completion," Wilhelmina says as she broods over a river map with the future link marked. "Anyone else, I'd be sure that they'd get sick of it or run out of money, but Dwarves don't do either of those. At this point it looks like there's no major obstacles left. Talabecland got burned trying to disrupt the canal, now they're just hoping to ride it out as best they can."
"They've gotten complacent from only having Stirland to compete with on the Stir," you say thoughtfully, "hence their gambit, I suppose. I doubt anyone else will try anything. Most Stir traders - us included - are looking forward to cheaper access to Ostermark, Ostland, and Kislev, which should more than outweigh the cost of added competition."
Everyone profits, except those with monopolies. A cheaper shipping access to Kislev has a lot of potential for profitability, food is always more costly in colder climates.
"And with all eyes there, nobody's paying attention to the real game-changer in the Aver Reach."
"Except us."
Wilhelmina grins. "Except us. My next target is an old acquaintance of yours - Count Maksim von Stolpe of Leicheberg."
Somewhat confused at the positioning, any map help?
The above is the best option, absolutely.
As a minor nitpick, deeding her shares to Stirland could create a serious political crisis, as it sets a precedent that's really frightening to burghers and even nobles.
Never stopped Wilhelmina before did it?