Make way for the REAL Storm King.

Chapter 3
Aim for the unstoppable future.

The first rays of the early morning sun stabbed themselves into my eyeballs, and with a tired groan I rolled out of bed. No assassins had come, this night anyway. But it would be some time before I would sleep easily, if ever.

I walked up to the window and looked towards the horizon. The sun rising through the cloud vapor over the mountaintops turned everything a deep red. Red like blood, like the blood on the Storm King’s corpse, like the blood from the Storm Beast general, or that nameless reptile I shot in the face. My stomach lurched, and before I knew it I was painting the corner of the room a nice shade of vomit green.

”How pathetic am I? Puking my guts out over killing some worthless foes. I am supposed to be a conqueror. I’m supposed to be a super villain. None of them would puke their guts out over some dead nobodies.”

‘Baby steps’

I wiped my mouth on my sleeve, the sour taste of bile burning my throat.

“Ugh, these clothes stink.” I thought out loud, “I could use a fucking bath too.”

I pulled the spear out of the door handle and unlocked the deadbolt. Peeking out into the corridor I spotted a guard at the end of the hall.

“You there.” I called.

“Sire?” he answered, quickly coming closer.

“Fetch a servant for me will you. Have them prepare a bath, and find me a tailor. I need some clothes made.”

“At once.” he replied with a bow before running off.

For such brutish looking creatures they were surprisingly articulate. Some of them a tad less so, but the majority of them were very well spoken. I lounged about in my chambers for a bit more, not really doing anything. My mind still too tired. Before long, Grubber appeared.

“Your bath is ready, your excellency.”

“Then lead the way.” I told him. “And please find someone to clean up that mess in the corner.”

The tub itself turned out to be one of those Victorian clawfoot type designs. Slipping out of my ratty clothes I quickly let myself sink into the water. My stiff and aching muscles let out a collective sigh of relief. My skin looked ashen from all the dirt that had collected over the last ten days, and it took some serious scrubbing before I was back to a healthy peachy pink. It made me feel human again. I soaked in there for close to an hour, until my empty stomach began to protest.

Just as I was drying myself off with a rather rough towel there was a knock on the door before Grubber stuck his head inside.

“A thousand pardons my lord, the tailor is here.”

”What good timing.” I thought. “Send him in.”

He turned out to be some kind of anthropomorphic cat. Like a silver tabby, walking on its hind legs. He wasn’t the tallest creature either, only about half my size. Isn’t that just all kinds of precious. Seriously, what mad animal loving god created this world?

“I understand you need some clothes made, my king.”

“Indeed I do.”

“Then with your permission, I will take your measurements now.”

Making sure the towel was firmly cinched around my waist I stood up straight and held out my arms.

“By all means.”

“Do you have any preferences?” he asked while he measured my dimensions, jotting them down on a notepad, using his tail like an extra hand. That's a rather neat skill.

“Nothing fancy, I need practical clothes. Something easy to move in that will keep me warm in this climate. My species doesn’t deal well with cold. No natural fur as you can see.”

“Very good, sir. Wool, furs, cotton and leathers it shall be then.”

“Have at least one set ready by the end of the day and there will be a substantial bonus in it for you.” I added. “If you don't mind my asking, what are you? I've not seen your species before.”

“I’m an Abyssinian, sire.”

“That's a mouthful. I’mma call you lot neko’s.”

“Neko’s?” he asked confused.

“Neko means cat in one of the languages of my home."

“I see.” he said. I couldn’t tell if he minded the nickname or not. Not that I cared if it did bother him. “I think I have everything. I will be back before nightfall with your first set of clothes.”

“I look forward to it.”

Once he left I reluctantly put on my old clothes. They felt grimy and smelled. But I had little choice. I couldn’t go out there starkers. I’d freeze my fucking nuts off before I made it down the hallway.

Time to see what they got for breakfast.

After a light breakfast of bread, eggs and a bit of cheese, Grubber and I; flanked by two guards, made our way to the town itself. I was wearing a heavy fur mantle over my normal clothes to ward off the morning chill. The townsfolk seemed curious about their new ruler, small groups had started following us around, likely seeing what we were up to. Since they had no malicious intent I did my best to just ignore them and get on with it.

“When can we expect the first craftsmen to arrive?”

“Hard to say, there’s a lot to consider. Distance, luggage, weather conditions. Sometimes an airship will break down. I’d give it about fourteen days for people to start arriving. There was this one time… ” said Grubber, between bites of cake.

“Where did you get that?” I interrupted.

“Uhm, castle larder. Did you want a bite?” he hesitantly offered me the half eaten piece.

“No, but next time bring me a slice too.”

“Can do your excellency.” he saluted before quickly shoving the rest of the cake down his throat.

I was actually starting to kind of like Grubber. He’s loyal and eager to please, good qualities in a minion. And he’s dependable, mostly, he does get a little sidetracked where food is concerned. Still I found him to be much more pleasant company than Strife, whose only concern seemed to be how much wealth we could suck out of the populace in the shortest amount of time.

“Let's pay a visit to the mining pit first. I wanna see how the new workforce is getting on.”

Grubber nodded and we made our way there with little difficulty. As we approached the camp at the top of the pit, raised voices reached our ears.

“Sounds like an argument. Let's find out what’s going on.”

“You want us to stomp em boss?” one of my bodyguards asked.

“You got a name?” I said whilst glancing over my shoulder.

“I’m...”

“Actually scratch that, I don’t fucking care. From now on you two are called Wedge and Biggs.”

Grubber, looked more than a little confused, as did my guards. “Uhm, can I ask why, sire?”

“Because it amuses me.” I smirked. “And because Wedge and Biggs are awesome. So now you two will have to live up to your new awesome names. Don’t disappoint me.”

Their confusion seemed to change into determination as they walked just that little bit straighter.

“And no stomping just yet. Let's find out what’s going on first before we start busting heads.”

They all nodded. As we approached the arguing group of creatures, I recognised Bones among them.

“Anyone mind explaining what’s going on here?”

Dead silence was my only answer. You could have heard a fly fart.

“Come on people, someone tell me what the problem is. I’m not gonna shoot the messenger.”

‘After all, Evil Overlord rule number thirty-two. I will not fly into a rage and kill the messenger who brings me bad news just to illustrate how evil I really am. Soon, no one would dare bring me any news at all. Also, good messengers are hard to come by.

“Other workers are too slow.” said Bones. “Diamond dogs do much more work.”

“Well we would be able to keep up, but the equipment keeps breaking.” said one of the fish guys. You know what screw it, I’m just going to refer to these guys collectively as Murlocs. He held up a pickaxe that no longer had a tip. It had broken clean off.

“Is all the equipment in such poor shape?” I mean I didn’t really pay attention while I was in the pit myself. Too busy trying to ignore my stomach and the ache in my arms and back.

“Pretty much.” said several miners.

“Well, do what you can for now. I’ll go to the forges and see what can be done.”

The sounds of bellows, crackling flames and the constant thumping of hammers greeted us as we entered the camps main forge. I wasn’t sure what to expect, since the slaves weren’t allowed up here I hadn’t had the chance to see it before. Judging by the overall level of technology I'd seen thus far I was kinda baffled by how primitive the forges were. I mean this world had flying ships for crying out loud. That would suggest their production methods had at least been partially industrialized. But no, this was all old fashioned hand work.

About a dozen smiths were pounding away at lumps of primitively forged steel. A small blessing I suppose. Having to invent steel smelting from scrap would have been a long and arduous process. No, all the basics were there, what this needed was automation.

“Grubber, fetch me a large table, stacks of paper and writing materials, rulers, the works.”

“At once, my lord.” he saluted before running off.

While I waited for his return, I sauntered over to the nearest smith who just quenched a newly forged pickaxe. He was a burly lizardman with reddish scales. Barrel chested with arms as thick as my thighs.

“What are you quenching that with?”

“Water, what else?” he grunted.

“Why are you not using oil?”

“Why would I do that? Oil is for cooking.”

“To reduce material stress. Cooling it this rapidly will make that pick rather brittle.”

“It’s worked for us so far.” he shrugged.

“Well so far is no longer good enough.” I told him, then turned to my guards, “Wedge, Biggs, go to the castle kitchens, see if we have any peanut oil and bring it here.”

“How much?” asked Wedge.

“All of it. The entire supply. If they don’t have much, bring me any other oil you can find. Fish oil, canola oil, I don’t care; just bring it all here.”

I hung around just outside the forge where I didn’t feel like my skin was melting off, waiting for my minions to return. All the while I was accessing the Overlords Compendium, looking up schematics for the things I needed. Pretty soon a series of carts made its way down the street. Pulled by a couple of storm guards. The first cart held the table and the writing supplies I’d asked for. Grubber was hitching a ride on top. The rest of the carts were laden with barrels.

“We brought everything you asked for sire.”

“Good work, Grubber, have them unload the carts. Set up the table here.” I then turned to the smith from before. “Dump out all the water, and fill your quench tanks with the oil from the barrels.”

He seemed sceptical about my order, but acquiesced anyway. While they got to work, I sat down at the table, grabbed a piece of parchment and started to sketch out detailed component schematics. My mind went into an almost trance like state while I worked as the information from the compendium flooded into me, and found its way onto the paper through my steady hand. Everything around me felt sort of muted, as if I was working while my head was underwater. Before long, a stack of schematics filled the other side of the desk, and when I scratched the last line of ink down onto the paper, reality seemed to snap back to its normal state.

I felt a brief moment of disorientation, but it passed quickly. Standing up from my workspace I called out to the smiths.

“Everybody listen up, I have new orders for you!”

Everyone soon crowded around me. I picked up the stack of schematics, holding them up in the air.

“All other projects are now on hold. These designs are your top priority. I will hand these out one by one, and you will forge these to the exact specifications. Do not rush your work. These components require great precision. You have one week to finish this. If you require extra help you are free to recruit anyone you need. If you finish one schematic, come back and grab a fresh one off the stack.”

One by one each smith grabbed a paper and got to work. Grubber gave the papers a curious glance.

“What are we building, sire? A new weapon?”

“No, not yet anyway. We’re building the future.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You will in a week.” I said as we left the forge and went back to the pit.

“Bones!” I called out to the foreman, who hurried over.

“You bring good news?”

“Yes and no. The good news is, your workers will have better tools in about two weeks. The bad news is that I want your dogs to work solo until then. I need the rest of the miners to do other jobs. And before you complain, you will be paid accordingly for the extra workload.”

“That is.. fair.” he said after thinking about it for a moment.

“I also have some additional orders. I want you to gather a couple of prospecting parties, have them go to the nearby mountains and find me a source of copper.”

“Why copper? Copper be soft and poisonous.”

“It is to build the future. I don’t need you to understand, I just need you to get me what I asked. Can you do that for me?”

“I can.” he nodded.

“Good, then get to it. A bonus to any worker who finds the copper first.”

The week passed swiftly, though there were a few hiccups with the forging. Not used to working with oil, some of the smiths accidentally caused a few fires, but luckily nothing serious; and the work progressed smoothly enough once everyone got used to the new process.

I had not heard back from the prospectors yet, but without modern equipment I expected it to take quite a bit of time to locate a chalcopyrite vein or copper in its native form. That’s why I sent them out right away.

Soon enough the forge work was done, and all that was left was assembly. I oversaw the work personally while the smiths assembled the various devices, giving instruction where required. This had been quite the ambitious project, considering the time limit I imposed upon them. But they had delivered. A house sized piece of land just outside the main forge had been cleared and leveled, a foundation laid, and brickwork and piping assembled.

I was standing outside, overseeing the final touches of the primary project, resplendent in my new clothes. That neko tailor had outdone himself. My new clothes were simple but robust, and above all warm. A warm woolen vest over a fine cotton shirt. Patches of leather reinforced the material in places such as my elbows, shoulders and knees. The pants too were a fine wool. The boots were made of fur lined leather, as were the gloves that came with the outfit. Those were currently tucked into my belt because I needed my hands free. Finally there was the fur lined cloak from before. I had grown quite attached to it.

“Pardon me, sire, but what is that monstrosity they are building?” came a familiar voice from beside me.

“That, Strife, is a steam engine.”

“A what?”

“Don’t your airships use something similar?”

“No, our airships move by burning magmasite crystals.”

“And those are?”

“A common form of minor magical rock found near volcanoes and the like.”

“Magical, really?”

“Yes.”

”interesting, If magic is a common thing in this world, then I will have to find ways to adapt it for my gain. But this will require careful study. Magic and science don’t often mix well.”

And if you’re wondering how I could so casually accept the existence of magic, need I remind you I was transported to this animal infested world by a godlike being who sold fucking magic powers as if they were carnival trinkets.

“To get back to your earlier question; a steam engine is a heat engine that performs mechanical work using steam as its working fluid. Water is heated to boiling point and then the steam pressure is moved through a series of valves and pipes to the cylinders. The force produced by the steam pushes a piston back and forth inside said cylinders. This pushing force is transformed, by a connecting rod and flywheel, into rotational force that can be used to power other devices.”

“Why on equus would we need such a thing?”

“Come with me.”

I led him inside the newly refurbished forge slash workshop. Some of the old furnaces had been replaced with new, more efficient designs. Instead of manual bellows, these were equipped with crank fans. There were steam hammers and grinding wheels in various sizes. All of them either piston or belt driven, hooked up to the giant steam engine outside through a complex series of gears, driveshafts, flywheels and belts that ran through the rafters above.

“Once the engine is completed and operational, this forge will be able to do roughly five times the work it was doing previously. And these new steam hammers are just small scale. Soon we will be able to build bigger, better and more powerful versions. Which will allow us to make even better and more refined tools in a fraction of the time it took to build all of this.”

"Everything I’ve come across the last few weeks has been made of wrought iron or more rarely, low carbon steel. The new furnaces can be kept at a much more consistent temperature thanks to the fans, which will improve the quality of our steel making process and will allow us to start creating high carbon steel. The start of the storm lands industrial revolution begins here.”

“Pardon me, your greatness,” one of the workers called from the doorway, “the work is complete, and we are ready to stoke the engine’s furnace.”

“Then begin. I will join you shortly.”

“I hope you do realise that because of this project our iron production and export is at an all-time low, my lord.”

“That is of no consequence, Strife. We stand to gain more than enough profit from this in the long run. Any temporary loss is insignificant. Learn to see the bigger picture.”

“You gamble with our only reliable source of income.”

“Yes, and I will continue to do so until the storm lands are completely self sufficient. And nothing is going to stand in my way.” I said, spinning on my heels and marching outside.

The atmosphere outside was brewing with excitement while everyone waited to see if the engine would work. Wedge and Biggs, at my request, were helping to shovel coal into the furnace. They didn’t seem at all bothered by the heat, despite their thick fur coats.

It takes a significant amount of fuel and time to heat up a boiler of this size, but eventually the pressure gauges began to rise. I nodded to the crew, and with a turn of a thick iron wheel, the main pressure valve opened. Slowly the pistons started to move, the fly-balls started spinning, and the wheels turning. The typical chugging hiss of the steam being released by the pistons valves was like music to my ears. More coal was shoveled into the furnace. The fires roared and the pistons pumped. Slowly the engine picked up speed. Everyone around began to clap and cheer.

“Ladies and gentle creatures, I congratulate you on a job well done. Tonight there shall be a feast for the whole town!”

My declaration was greeted with an even louder applause. What I failed to see was Strife’s disapproving glare.

I joined in on the celebrations for a short while. Even if you outright hate your subjects it helps to be seen as a man of the people. It’s simply a matter of good PR. I enjoyed the feast, though refused to drink any spirits or wine or other forms of alcohol. Vulnerabilities.

All in all it had been a good time, And I left everyone to their revelry while quietly making my way back to the castle.

Having a celebration had been the right call. After all the work everyone put in to get this whole project off the ground they needed a chance to unwind. Everyone's spirits were high. I guess the old saying rings true in any world. Panem et circenses, bread and games for the masses, and they shall be content. At least for a time.

One of the first things I had the forge make was a small, reinforced steel safe. One that perfectly fit under my bed. That’s where I put the compendium for now, as well as my cell phone and MP3 player. Until I could build a reliable source of electricity they would have to remain switched off.

Things seemed to be going smoothly for a time. Sadly that’s when fate decided to kick us in the shins.

Five days after the steam engine went online, the first airship returned. I was up in the castle with a work crew when it landed. We were clearing out an entire wing to convert it to a laboratory. Every self respecting super villain needs one of those. Where else am I going to build and test my diabolical superweapons when the time comes. I was just going over some details when a messenger came barging in.

“S-sire… news… bad.. News.” he gasped.

“Take a minute to catch your breath man, if it’s this urgent then me waiting a few extra seconds can’t possibly make it any worse.”

And so he spent the next minute or so trying not to cough up a lung before finally delivering his message.

“Sire… the east side of the island… has gone into open rebellion. They heard the old king was dead… the coastal towns decided to form their own kingdom. Our guards were.. Attacked.”

“Well that’s just fucking peachy aint it?” I said.

Nobody said anything.

“Assemble my generals, I call for a war council.”

Said council was assembled in the throne room within minutes. I myself was the last to arrive, flanked by my two personal guards. Wedge and Biggs had dyed a streak of bright orange color into their otherwise white manes to help them stand out from the rank and file.

“So what do we know?” I asked no-one in particular as we all gathered around the map table. Various chess pieces were arranged on top of the map, showing the locations of various troops, ships, supplies, and our enemies. How accurate this whole thing was is questionable at best, given the delay in information.

One of the assembled leaders, a lizardman, spoke up. “Not much I’m afraid, Sire. The coastal towns were already a clawful during the reign of the previous king. But they never dared to openly rebel. They must think you’re weak to pull off something this bold.”

“And you are?”

“Commander Greenscale of the storm scouts.”

“Do we have any information on their numbers? Military capacity, armaments.”

“They have formed a citizen militia, using weapons taken from our storm guard. There have been a few defectors amongst our ranks, but the majority of our forces have pulled back to await orders.” he said, indicating several pieces on the map just outside the three largest coastal towns.

“We must strike them down with overwhelming force. Bring in our troops from the rest of the empire and crush them in one fell swoop.” said another of my officers. A burly storm beast.

“And leave the other towns unguarded, Captain Granite? You might as well order them to join the rebellion.” Greenscale shot back.

“Maybe they want us to pull out our troops. It could be a trap.” Opted one of the murlocs.

‘Who the hell are you? Admiral Ackbar?’ I thought to myself. “Who are their leaders? Do we know at least that much?” I asked.

“The only one we know of for sure is the one who made the declaration. The mayor of Blackreef.” said Greenscale.

“Assassinate him, and do it quickly. We must cut off the head of the snake before this rebellion gains too much momentum.” growled Granite.

“Belay that, first I want to know why exactly these towns rebelled. You said they were stirring trouble before. There must be a reason for that.”

“Probably because of all the pirates.” Said one of the other storm beasts. “They have been raiding the coastal towns and their fishing and trade ships for years. The old king knew, but he didn't do anything about it. Im guessing they’ve simply had enough.”

“So how shall we deal with these upstarts, my liege?” Strife asked expectantly.

That put me on the spot. I had been going over various scenarios in my head while the discussion continued. But the simple truth is I have no real command experience outside of video games. And it's not like I can build extra units or somesuch. This isn’t command and conquer after all.

I studied the map whilst trying to draw information from the compendium, only to discover a glaring weakness. It contains a near endless supply of information, but it doesn't have anything on actual battle tactics. It can tell me how to build artillery, but not how to best employ them.

“Think of it as a trial run, a tutorial before you get to join the big game.” the words of The Shopkeeper echoed in my mind.

”Shit. I guess I will have to learn as I go.”

“I want you to send word to all our forces. I want one third of the guards in every town to pull out and meet us here.” I indicated a point on the map, just a few kilometers outside of Blackreef. “The remaining two thirds will keep watch for possible insurrection. Once our forces are assembled, we will surround Blackreef. I will demand to meet this mayor in person, to see if he can be reasoned with. If negotiations fail, then the assassins can take him out. If his forces fail to surrender after that, we will raze the town to the ground.”

“Why negotiate at all? Why not just slaughter the riff raff and get it over with?” Strife asked.

“Because it would be a waste. I’m not going to slaughter them wholesale if they could still be of use to me.”

What I left unsaid was that the thought of putting an entire town to the sword made me feel queasy. If the situation deteriorated I might not have any choice, but right now I would try to avoid that for a while longer.

“Send word to the forge, tool production is on hold. I want them to crank out as many high quality weapons and armor as they can. Priority is on crossbows and bolts. We will take as many with us as we can haul.” I said before turning to Greenscale, by far the most level headed of my commanders. “How long will it take for our forces to assemble?”

“If we can airlift them all, just under two weeks. if they have to travel on foot, almost a month.”

“Then the forge has two weeks. Make it so.”

Everyone at the table saluted then began to file out.

“Commander Greenscale, wait a moment.” I said just as he was about to exit the room. “I’d like a word.”

He waited dutifully till we were alone. “How can I be of further service, my king?”

“You all know how I came to power.”

“You assassinated the former king in a daring, if desperate powergrab.” he stated matter of factly.

“Yes, and while I could claim I did so through my exceptional skills, that would be a lie. The fact of the matter is that my skills with a blade are lacking. You seem to be the most level headed of the commanders, so I need you to either teach me some combat basics or find me a competent instructor.”

Now you might be wondering why in the world I would admit to having such a glaring weakness in front of someone who could likely kill me, but this was a calculated risk. I sorely needed instruction, or I would be dead meat on the field if it came to actual combat. I can’t rely on my bodyguards or trickery or even fucking luck to save my ass. I needed training, pure and simple.

Greenscale looked me over skeptically. “Trying to teach you how to properly wield a sword in just two weeks would be wasted effort. It takes several months of daily exercises and drills to gain any sort of competence. A spear would be a much better choice at this point. It's easy to wield and can be used both offensively and defensively.”

“If that is your expert opinion, I won’t argue.”

“It is, so when would you like to begin?”

“As soon as you are available.” Might as well get the humiliation over with as soon as possible.

“Very good, sire. I will meet you in the courtyard in an hour.”

Humiliation indeed.

Greenscale turned out to be a competent swordfighter, and he fought dirty. He’d slapped me repeatedly with the flat of his blade, tripped me up or otherwise threw me off balance. I was feeling battered and bruised, while I hadn’t gotten so much as a single hit in myself. Even with the advantage of reach the spear afforded me he easily beat me every single time.

“You really weren’t kidding when you said you had no combat skills. How you managed to pull off your assassination is beyond me.”

“The fact that the former king was a raving idiot helped a lot.” I groaned from my position on the cold hard ground. “I’m an armchair general, not a footsoldier.”

“At this point, all you are is worm food, but I can fix that. Now get up and let's go again.”

I spent the next hour stabbing, thrusting and swinging the spear, and picking myself up off the ground. By the time Greenscale called for a stop my arms were aching worse than on my first day in the mining pit. At least my hands had built up some calluses thanks to that, so my palms weren’t completely raw from wielding the spear.

“Remind me to invent some personal weapons once we have this rebellion under control.” I gasped between breaths. “Because spear fighting is clearly not for me.”

“Oh quit bellyaching, your highness. Unless you were planning to whine our foes into submission.” Greenscale said sarcastically. “All you gotta do is keep this up for the next few weeks and you should be at least a little competent by the time we ship out.”

“I could have you thrown into the ocean, you know.” I glared.

“But you won't, since you clearly need me.” He smirked cockily.

“I’m sure I could find a competent replacement.”

“But not one as handsome.” he replied glibly, and I chuckled despite myself.

“Or modest, apparently.”

He gave me a roguish smile. “One of my many good qualities.”

“Well, just to stack the odds in my favor, I have another task for you.”

“I’m all ears, oh great one.”

“Ugh, I’m getting sick of all these different honorifics. Everyone will stick to just my lord from now on. Have it be known.”

“As you wish, my lord. Now what was this task you mentioned?”

“I want you to hand pick the ten best fighters from amongst the troops. And I want you to mold them into an elite unit. They will become the first Imperial Royal Guard. Oh and I want you to include Wedge and Biggs among them.”

“Why those two?”

“Because I’ve taken a liking to them. So work them, mold them into the best of the best. If they truly can’t make the cut, you tell me personally. But I think they will be highly motivated.”

“But why pick me for this task?”

“Because you voted for caution where others wanted to rush in blindly. I need those qualities. I need leaders that think before they act. You’re cocky, but you’re not stupid. You use that smarmy swashbuckler routine to catch your opponents off guard. That is a quality I can appreciate. Especially for the commander of my Imperial Royal Guard.”

“What if I don’t want the position?”

“That only means I made the right choice.”

“I’m a highly trained scout and skilled frontline fighter, not a babysitter.”

“And that is exactly why I want you to train these troops. If I wanted guards to just stand around and look pretty while watching the throne room I could just pick a couple of them at random. What I need from you, is to train the deadliest, most focused, most battle hardened team of warriors this island has ever seen. Because that’s who I want with me when I’m forced to take to the field personally.”

“Would this position come with an increase in pay?” he asked slyly.

“It might.” I casually answered.

“You drive a tough bargain.”

“Pfft, please, that was hardly bargaining. Besides, I could just order you to do it for the same pay.”

“No need to go that far, my lord.”

“Oh look, the honorifics are back.”

“I have no idea what you mean, my lord.” he said with a toothy grin.

“I’m sure you don’t. Now, enough wasting time.”

“Aye, sire.” he said before running off.

“Note to self, put him on the ‘to watch’ list.”