A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor

"…This sounds like the type of thing that would piss off that Guild that you're constantly warring with. But what can we snatch away from them?" Oliver asked.

"Oho? You're interested?" Greeves said. "I thought you might not want to cause a war on this front? It'll be dangerous, after all. Merchants are malicious people. It isn't wise to get us angry."

"At the very least, I'm curious," Oliver admitted.

"Curiosity is enough for me," Greeves said. "But I'll be making you go all the way. This is a time to be ambitious, I reckon. We can afford to be reckless. The Lord of Solgrim is going to be sitting here awhile. Now we can afford to make some enemies.

We're going to steal ourselves away a few master craftsmen."

"…But we already have a smith," Oliver said. The fact that a village like theirs had a smith had always been a subject of pride for the people of Solgrim, but Greeves seemed determined to take that a step further.

"Aye, we do. That's good enough for maintaining a garrison, and getting the odd passerby through," Greeves said. "But what is Solgrim, Ser Patrick? It's the final resting place of the greatest knight in the history of Solgrim – this is where Dominus Patrick is laid to rest. I think it's time we advertised that fact, and built a town worthy of his memory," Greeves said.

"You would play into Solgrim's history, then?" Oliver said. "You'd make it a place for knights and soldiers to gather in search of new blades, and to pay their respects to a great man who had passed?"

"Aye. I wonder how strongly you oppose that?" Greeves said. "It means using your father – or your master, in truth – as a seed to see it done. I wonder if that's an immoral use of the man's memory? A man like me finds it hard to tell."

"When Dominus died, the poison of the Pandora Goblin running through his veins turned him to ashes," Oliver said, recalling bitterly the sight of it. For that one wound sustained all those years ago to have chained Dominus for so long – he resented that fact. "We can make fertilizer of those ashes.

I've always thought it to be a nice thing, when a tree is planted atop a man's grave, to extend his life in a different form. We will do the same with Dominus, Greeves. I think it to be a fine idea. We will have him live on in a different form.

The village that the High King seeks continually to purge, and the memory of Dominus Patrick that he sought to purge with it – we shall ensure its timelessness. We will build a city that shall last hundreds of years. The respect that Dominus did not receive in life, we will ensure he receives now after his death."

Greeves was taken aback by Oliver's passionate agreement. In truth, the man had expected him to refuse. He thought it to be another one of his less than savoury ideas. But when seen as Oliver saw it, it became a mighty vision. An ode to a legend.

"Aye… Aye!" Greeves said excitedly. "We'll do that. We were seeing Solgrim's growth just to protect ourselves before, but there's a reason to it now… Aye, that reason will serve us well, I can be sure of it."

"Now, this plan, Greeves," Oliver said. "No doubt it will bring trouble, as the name of Dominus Patrick always has… But the trouble doesn't matter. We can deal with that. The question is can you get it to work? What would inspire craftsmen to come here, rather than Solgrim?"

"Well, you're going to need strange sorts," Greeves said. "It certainly won't be coin. They won't make more coin here than they do in Ernest, and if we were paying them just to stay, it would defeat the purpose of the taxes. We need to snatch them away by different means.

Or at least, a combination of those means, to lessen their weaknesses… The best bet we have in that is to start attempting to leverage Dominus' name from the very start.

"You reckon we can find them?" Oliver said.

"It's going to require effort…. There's going to have to be a handful of reasons on the table," Greeves said. "But we should be able to find out the terms that the Guild is offering them, and then attempt to rival it. We might have to buy a few of them out of the contracts that they're in though. But we do have the coin for that, if you're willing to use it."

"I am willing," Oliver agreed. "If we can get a handful of true craftsmen in our village, our soldiers would be strengthened for it as well."`

"Then I will look into it," Greeves said. "It'll be a dangerous game, but I don't imagine it will be impossible."

…

…

Oliver had kept his sword sheathed more now than he ever had. He'd always found comfort in removing it from the scabbard then, but now he only found doubt. He kept it polished, and sharp, but that only made it worse. Every time he drew it intending to examine the weapon, and hoping to find a stronger path forward for it, all he saw was himself.

"There are matters that need addressing," Ingolsol said, his voice deep and resounding. It wasn't the first time that he had said that. "You know my name now, Vessel. You will speak it, and you will change your ways, according to your understanding."

In the face of a changed Ingolsol, Claudia had grown restless. At times she was quiet, as if someone had thoroughly chastised her, and at other times she was fiercely indignant, with a trace of anxiousness in her tone, as if fearing for what Ingolsol would say next.

Today, it seemed it was fear.

"You need go no further, Ingolsol," Claudia said. "Be content with what you have. You've wanted this for the longest time, and you now you have it. You need push no further. You will break our Vessel."

"Hm? You speak to me with mock concern, woman," Ingolsol said. "Do you not think I see through to the heart of your feelings? You're afraid of subordination. You know that, inherently, I am the superior piece of divinity. You can not hope to match me.

You know that the Vessel will be rid of you, in order to make room for me."