Chapter CIII – You shall see how feudalism was made a democracy.

70th of Summer 5859
A building, Casamonu

There was a building in Casamonu, unnoticeable as it was overshadowed by the castle it was close to yet it held more power than many would realize. Inside were several odd wooden machines that would look similar to grape or olive oil presses to an untrained eye. There were no olives or grapes to press with these machines however, for these were presses of another type.

A fancifully dressed man, the fanciest of all in the room, was pacing around the room while giving orders. His hat had a feather on it which stood tall and proud, and his mustache was as black as the ink he worked with. “Get the woodblocks in order, we’re behind our quota for the day.” He was speaking frantically, rushing around the room to inspect each and every worker. The man even intervened in the work now and then, pushing around woodblocks and moving lead types around to create sentences and even paragraphs. From bold letters to fancy italics, they had all the types of types that they needed to print something good-looking, even including letters from the otherworldly languages. To the top went the bold and decorated titles, the officers of type, and to their bottom went their less fanciful looking privates.

“Sir Inkwell, if I may ask,” asked one particularly tired worker holding up a written order for a printing job “the city has fallen. We’re no longer in Imperial territory. Do we still have to print out this Imperial proclamation that we received?”

Inkwell nodded without a thought. “Yes, we do. My family has worked for generations to get the permission to allow this press from His Imperial Majesty himself, and you’re telling me to abandon my duty?” He paused to wipe his hand on a towel, which now had his inky fingerprints on it “You can leave. I’d run this whole printery by myself if I needed to.”

“A-alright, sir…” The worker was about to reluctantly go back to typesetting when…

KNOCK, KNOCK!

“Who are you?” shouted out Inkwell “It has been a while since anyone has visited us.”

A young female voice cried out from behind the door “It’s me, father, it’s me!”

“Azra?” Inkwell rushed to open the door “I thought you had escaped to Azdavay…” He didn’t finish the sentence upon seeing the two who had followed his daughter to the door. “Who are you?”

“Watanabe Haruhi, though many refer to me as the Hero round these parts.” Watanabe flicked his hair in an attempt to look cool and heroic.

“Doctor Rabanowicz, at your service.” Rabanowicz made a polite curtsy with the hem of her gambeson “We’re here to talk to your about making use of your services.”

“I’m grateful for you having brought back my daughter, but I can’t let just anyone use the printing press. They’re for use by Imperial permission only.”

“The Empire is no more, Sir Inkwell, at least not in Casamonu. We’re in the Federal Republic of Gemeinplatz now. Imperial restrictions on printing are no longer relevant. The Commander-in-Chief asks that you print copies of the new republican constitution along with deeds for the homesteading program.” Rabanowicz took out and handed him a written copy of what was to be printed. Inkwell gave it back to her without taking a look.

“Sorry, but I can’t comply with your demands.”

“Father-”

“Azra, there are some things in life that you never ever accept. I’m not selling out my honor and the family name.” He opened his arms and turned to his visitors “Do what you must.”

“Printing is critical, Sir Inkwell. If you don’t comply, then we must seize your printery.” Seeing that Inkwell wasn’t cooperating, Rabanowicz heaved a very deep sigh. “Unfortunately, we must do what we must. We’ll compensate you monetarily for the equipment we seize, and your daughter will take over operations.” She turned to the workers who had stopped to listen in to the conversation. “Your knowledge is quite valuable. You’ll be compensated well with a high wage if you continue working in printing.”

Inkwell opened the door and left the building without saying any more, while the workers gathered around Azra, the Miss Inkwell. “As the doctor said, we must print out these orders from the Federal Republic.”

“What about what we were already printing?” asked the worker from before. “We recently received an Imperial proclamation that we were meant to print out.”

Rabanowicz’s spectacles almost slipped off her nose from the surprise. “How did you… Did a messenger sneak through the walls?”

“Not really sneak in, they just entered Casamonu and hadn’t heard about the takeover yet. We found the printing order in our inbox, so we didn’t have a chance to inform or see the messenger.” He gave the order, which Inkwell had left on a nearby table, to Rabanowicz.

“…this seems quite important.” Rabanowicz slipped the order into one of the many pockets in her gambeson.

Azra clapped her hands to get everyone’s attention back on her. “Let’s not worry about that right now. Forget the Imperials, we must get these deeds printed as soon as possible.”

“I’ll leave that up to you, my lady.” butted in Watanabe the Hero. “I’m sure you’ll do work so excellent that your name is printed on to history books.”

“Ahem, yeah, sure.” Rabanowicz gently prodded Watanabe out the door, while she walked closer to one of the printing presses in the room. She knelt down and adjusted her spectacles to get a close look to the wooden behemoths of engineering. “Do you have any craftsmen who deal with these machines?”

“No, we have to bring specialists from the Imperial capital for these.” replied a worker “We can only do basic maintenance on these.”

Rabanowicz touched the wooden beams on the press, before she moved on to the metal screws and bolts on the machine “This seems to be a rudimentary contraption at best. I’ll be reserving one to examine for a few days.” She shooed away the workers around her with her hand “Go on with your work, I’ll be busy here.”

70th of Summer 5859
Inside the walls of Casamonu Castle, Casamonu

“Captain Brown,” Rabanowicz entered the room after a few courteous knocks “I have visited the printing press as you asked. That girl was right – she was indeed the daughter of a printer. The prints you asked for should be done by tomorrow, they said.”

Brown was sitting on the chair that he had basically claimed as his own in the former count’s office. Sure, the count had a sofa or two, but sitting on that made the old man sleepy. He preferred the simple, utilitarian chair. It did what it had to do, and in that Brown found something divine that he’d love to philosophize about if anyone was willing to listen. “Excellent work, doctor.”

“There is another thing you should know.” Rabanowicz folded out the printing order she had gotten from before “Apparently the printers got orders to print an Imperial edict. I haven’t had the chance to read it yet.” She handed the piece of paper to Brown.

“Hmm…” Brown looked at the paper, being unable to read the native Gemeinplatzish script. Taking a closer look, he noticed that a transcription in Latin script had been provided with a note under it saying “for the otherworlders”

“Can you read it, or do I need to bring Vaiz over?”

“No, there’s a translation here. Let’s see…” Brown cleared his throat in preparation. “‘Decree Relating to the Appointment of Her Majesty Chieftainess Tinatin Leafblower as Supreme Chieftain of All Elves in Gemeinplatz and Marchioness of Zon'guldac’. That’s the title of this.”

“Zon’guldac? I think that’s the next province over.” replied Rabanowicz. She had been studying the geography of Gemeinplatz, along with everything else about it, ever since she had learned the Gemeinplatz script in two days. “I wonder why they’d appoint an elf to head the dwarves though.”

“Let’s see. ‘In the name of His Imperial Majesty: The increasing slave-related unrest in the Casamonu has been exacerbated by the Union of Dwarves being uncooperative. The dwarves have long harbored fugitives, and while His Imperial Majesty has yet to take any action out of his goodwill, the subversive actions of the dwarves can no longer be ignored. Therefore, the special status of the Union of Dwarves under the Empire has been revoked, and their territory shall be transferred over to a most trusted elven chieftain: Her Majesty Tinatin Leafblower.”

“That does make sense. A lot of the slaves we’ve freed made their way to Zon’guldac.” Rabanowicz tied her hands behind her back, making rounds around the room while listening to Brown.

“Yes, but I do believe there to be ulterior motives if they decided to take action now rather than before. Let’s continue. Ahem! ‘To protect against potential threats in the boundaries of the Empire, Her Majesty has been given mandate to rule the elven race in the name of His Imperial Majesty to act as a shield against any hostile activity on the border. All neighboring lords are urged to help her in any way they can against potential hostile activity in the hinterlands. May the Divine bless this decree and the Empire.”