Warhammer Fantasy:Steel and gunpowder

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I looked at the monster heads and armor decorating the walls. It wasn't anything I didn't expect, but seeing the head of a minotaur hanging there, accompanied by a painting of my father in his youth defeating the beast, left me speechless. "Damn… he killed a minotaur," I muttered to myself, watching how his younger face stood firm in the painting, while the creature's severed head hung above it.

"So this is what his room looked like…" I murmured as I turned slowly through the space. "Of course it would be decorated with monster heads and armor, but I didn't expect it to have paintings from when he killed them too…"

This room was mine now, which felt strange. But surrounded by all those monster heads, it was hard to relax. "Well, no time to sleep the day away. That will come when I can finally relax with the peasants' taxes. Only then will I sleep until there's no tiredness left in me," I said with an ironic smile.

I headed for my father's study. There was much to do. I immediately sat at the dark wooden desk, the surface cluttered with papers, letters, and documents requiring my attention.

I ate something quickly while flipping through the papers, well aware that time would not wait. I needed to review the documents related to my family's finances. I glanced at the coffers and began doing calculations in my head.

"Let's see what we've got," I muttered, beginning to go through the records.

The family coffers held a total of two thousand two hundred and forty-three gold crowns — a considerable amount, though not enough to live in luxury until my death. As expected, the gold came from several sources. After deductions and the 25% sent to the Prince of Altdorf, the family's net income came mainly from peasant taxes, which no longer surprised me. It was a reliable source, but the money was distributed in a way that always made it feel like it wasn't enough, especially since the taxes weren't stable and depended entirely on the harvest.

Aside from taxes, my income came from various goods, which couldn't be underestimated. The family mill provided a steady income, and the commercial licenses issued within our lands also helped keep the treasury filled. However, the standout — the real money-maker — was the sale of horses, especially warhorses.

To my surprise, the sale of warhorses generated enormous profits. Each one sold for ten to twenty gold crowns, and the finest specimens auctioned in Altdorf could go for hundreds. About five hundred horses were sold each year. That didn't even include the sale of regular horses, which also brought in a respectable amount of money, though not as lucrative. These were mostly sold as work animals — to well-off peasants or people in need of transport — but the income from each one was stable.

At the same time, I reviewed the report from the last Imperial census, conducted in the year 2285. It detailed the population of the villages under my control: Reinsfeld, my main village, had nine thousand inhabitants — an impressive number, given the region's conditions. Then there was the unnamed village governed by Rudolf in my name, with three thousand inhabitants. Still without a formal name, it was growing slowly but remained loyal. Another village, home to two thousand people, was under one of my knights' command. And finally, the newly established mining settlement had around three hundred residents.

What caught my attention in the census was the gender distribution: men and women were nearly equal in number, with a slight edge to the women — likely a result of battlefield casualties.

Altogether, the total peasant population under my rule was about fourteen thousand, most of them working the fields, tending livestock, or laboring in the mines. While roughly two thousand were either too young or too old to contribute actively, the vast majority were productive, keeping the economic engine running.

On average, annual income hovered around twenty-five thousand gold crowns, far more than I had initially estimated. The sale of horses proved to be by far the most profitable source of income — thanks to the massive herds my father had accumulated over the years. Each warhorse fetched a high price, and the steady sale of other horses helped keep the treasury strong. The horse trade was clearly one of the pillars of the estate.

But despite the income, expenses were equally high.

The garrisons made up a large part of the budget. We had four hundred guards, each receiving two silver shillings per day, plus food rations and a weekly allowance for a mug of beer. With months lasting 32 or 33 days, the yearly cost of the guards reached nearly sixteen thousand crowns — a considerable burden.

To that, I added the annual cost of replacing military gear, which came to about three hundred crowns.

Caring for the horses was another major expense. Though the families responsible for the stables were exempt from taxes, they still charged a thousand crowns per year to cover the cost of grain, horseshoes, and training.

The religious cults also consumed a significant part of the budget: two thousand crowns to the cult of Sigmar, another two thousand to Shallya, a thousand to Morr, and a thousand to Taal and Rhya. These were unavoidable yearly expenses, as the cults were an essential part of life in the Empire's lands.

There were, in the end, fifty administrative workers, between scribes and tax collectors, who cost a total of fifteen hundred crowns a year. And I couldn't forget the two hundred crowns set aside for the stablehands and servants responsible for maintaining the stables and other minor matters.

Adding all that together, the annual expenses quickly consumed over all of the total income. After all deductions, only about two hundred crowns remained—money I could actually move toward other projects or emergencies.

"Shit… how is it possible to have so many expenses?" I thought, staring at the figures in the ledger. "Of course, we have more than three percent of the population under arms. How could we not have high costs? That's why there's so much spending. Father invested too much in security."

I looked closer at the numbers. Overmilitarized. Based on our population, we should only have a third as many guards. But the excess personnel, while justifiable due to the importance of protecting the land, represented an economic burden that needed to be reconsidered.

"As much as I'd like to, I can't cut military expenses. Or the cult contributions. And I definitely can't cut horse care, since they finance nearly everything else," I said aloud, going over the numbers again. "I need the guards to protect the land. Especially from that damned family. If they sense weakness, they'll take advantage of it—and test me. And if the Margrave feels insulted, he might act... I can't let that happen. The first thing I need to do is improve the tax system. Revenues are stagnating. At this rate, I won't be able to sustain the guard or the cults. And if those damned merchants keep lowballing prices, we're not going anywhere. Let's see here... a purchase order for eight hundred crowns from the Schilderheim merchants—for tools and construction materials…"

I paused for a moment, flipping through the documents with growing frustration.

"The mine…" I murmured, deep in thought. "Still no income. Here it is... Father was selling iron ore to a local merchant—ten crowns per ton… what? Ten crowns? Per ton?! That's daylight robbery!"

My voice rose unintentionally, the anger rushing in. "This is giving the ore away! What the hell was Father thinking?"

I sighed, running a hand across my forehead. Income calculations were critical.

"To process iron, I need a proper smelter. But building it will take time. And, above all… gold. I have to use what I have wisely. I can't waste it, but I need to invest in the right places," I muttered, rising from my chair and pacing the room, trying to organize my thoughts.

"The blacksmiths will need proper tools to process the iron. I'll also need wood and stone for the smelter's construction. All of that requires tools—tools I don't currently have. I need to see what the local merchants can supply… and how much."

I'd have to speak to the blacksmith personally. See how he could help me get what I needed... In the meantime, the shipment I was waiting for should arrive soon, I told myself, glancing at the papers again, frustration simmering.

I sighed and sat down again, the stress mounting as I weighed each decision. The situation wasn't easy.

"Guards," I called, raising my voice with purpose. Two of them opened the door almost immediately, appearing at the entrance.

"Bring in the tax collectors. Now," I ordered, my eyes fixed on the door. "I have work for them."

The guards nodded in silence, their professionalism standing out in the quiet of the moment, and they quickly left the office. Several long minutes passed before the collectors finally entered the hall, their footsteps firm and serious, their neatly adjusted uniforms reflecting the formality of such meetings.

I stood watching, scanning their faces, searching for the man I expected to see—but he wasn't there. I frowned, letting out a faint sigh. "What happened to one of my father's collectors? An older man—always had a nose for taxes," I asked, eyes narrowing as I addressed the group.

A young collector, his face tense with nerves, was the first to answer. "My… father… passed away three summers ago, peacefully in his bed, my lord," he said, almost stammering.

His voice—and his youth—caught me off guard. It was clear he wasn't the man I was used to seeing handle our accounts. "Too young," I thought to myself.

"And you inherited the position?" I asked, my tone direct, expecting a clear answer.

"Yes, my lord… I was trained by him. Your lord father believed there was no one better to replace him," he replied, his voice trembling slightly. The boy was clearly nervous—it showed in how he spoke, in the way he stood.

"I see," I murmured, thoughtful. I glanced back at the group, noticing the differences among them. "Very well," I continued, shifting my focus back to business. "I know it's the start of the year and that you're only expected to keep the ledgers updated, but I'm putting you to work now. I want a full land survey of all my subjects' properties. A complete

cadastre," I stated, leaving no doubt about the weight of the task.

I stood and walked over to the table, where several family documents lay scattered, ready for review. "From now on, I want every plot of land measured and tied to the imperial census," I continued. "Assume each hectare should yield at least half a ton of grain—regardless of actual output. By next month, I want all farmland measured, with updated information. We'll use that data for the next tax season, to determine what each household owes."

The room fell into silence. The collectors exchanged glances—silent doubts passed among them. The order meant heavy work.

"Understood?" I asked, my voice firm.

"My lord, I have no objections, but…" one began hesitantly. "This will take time. We'll need more men to complete such a large survey, and with the harvests heavy work ongoing, the peasants might resist cooperating."

"I know," I replied firmly, "but it's imperative we do this. The tax system must be reorganized, and we can't keep operating with no idea of what each parcel produces. I need that information for the next tax cycle. I don't want excuses. The farmland must be measured, and we must ensure all production is recorded accurately. Request as much help as you need from the guards."

They all fell silent.

"What are you staring at? I don't pay you to breathe—get to work, damn it!" I shouted angrily, and the collectors immediately began carrying out my orders.

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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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