"Manny, how would you like to make some prognoses about the crop yield?"

Maenith stopped in his tracks and released a silent grown through clenched teeth. When papa Scratch asked you if you would like something, it really meant that you had to do it. Pronto.

Pronto and prognosis were new words he had learned.

"Can I finish my book first?"

"You finish what chapter you're at. I'll put the numbers right here."

There was really no putting it off. The office of the baronet had become dependent on the young hobgoblin.

-

Scratch's pencil creaked as he was writing his letter.

The baronet had ruined enough quills and now carved his blocky script onto paper with graphite.

Maenith was able to block out the sound as he began his calculations.

"Percent is the smaller number divided by the bigger number times a hundred...

A half times 81 is half of eighty and half of 1. More than 7.

A third of 81 is 27, more than 7...

A fourth of 81 is a fourth of 80 and a fourth of 1.

Which is 20-and-a-fourth, more than 7...

A fifth of 81 is a fifth of eighty and a fifth of one...

At break-neck speed his prattled off his sums, so fast that it was unintelligible to anyone but himself.

"A twelfth of 80 is a twelfth of 72 and twelfth of eight.

Half times twelve is 6, less than 8...

All quarters-but-one of twelve is 8.

A twelfth of 80 is 6-and-three-quarters.

A twelfth of 1 is... a twelfth.

6-and-three-quarters and a twelfth is... 6-and-nine-twelfths and a twelfth.

A twelfth of 81 is 6-and-ten-twelfths, less than 7...

An eleven-and-a-halfth of 81 is an eleven-and-a-halfth of... 77... and 3-and-a-half... and eleven-and-a-halfth of a half."

This process continued until he came to the hundred fractions, which you were allowed to round off.

He wrote down his first number. 8.64 procent.

Then he began applying the estimated increase to last years measurements.

"752 divided by one-hundred is 7-and-fifty-two-hundreds.

Times 8-and-64-hundreds is 7 times 8 and 7 times 64-hundreds and fifty-two-hundreds times 8 and 52-hundreds times 64 hundreds."

-

Scratch looked up from his lordly decree.

He had given the boy homework before and had become familiar with the noises of his deliberations, but with time he was starting to make out some words in Maenith's mutterings.

"What are you doing? Are you applying sums you already know?"

Meanith looked up in confusion. Applying sums and rules he already knew was what numbers were all supposed to be about.

Scratch had given them the times table, and the rules for subtraction and addition, and by applying them they got the answer to more times tables. Once they had gotten the answer to a new sum they could know it from thereon out.

Maenith had done the most sums, so he could do the most complicated new sums. That was why he was good at it.

"Manny. I'm asking you, are you seeing the numbers in your head or are you just following the steps?"

"I'm... I'm just doing the prognosis."

Scratch looked at him with a complicated expression. "Boy what an experiment. I'm clogging up your long term memory with decimals aren't I? Gotta wonder how much a goblin skull can hold, for how long can we keep on memorizing every single word we come across? Goblins don't live that long, usually, do they?"

Maybe Maenith would have found some way to express himself at that moment, but the silence in the office was suddenly ripped apart by three punctuated explosions.

*Bang.*

*Bang.*

*Bang.*

There was screaming outside the manor.

"That'll be the war again."

-

A an iron-clad giant, twenty feet tall at least, had kicked through the wall and stepped into the domain.

Not a single speck of skin was visible in the huge metal form, and he carried a spiked ball-and-chain, which he spun dangerously.

"Vhere is zhe goblin king!?" A voice thundered from his chest. "I challenge you!"

There were many plans and protocols for a siege breaking into a town, but none accounted for a giant.

Warg wolves, goblins, and the general population fled from the vicinity of his spinning weapon.

"What's happening?" Scratch asked his advisers.

Lydia growled, "a Blurichan noble has snuck past enemy lines specifically to target us."

"Why?"

"Master," Youthere grinned, "I do believe you've become somewhat of a symbol of the cause for Blurich. This young man has put aside military strategy in favor of enhancing his honor, by challenging the lord of evil. Your legend grows!"

"Will you meet his challenge?" Lydia asked.

"You two got a nasty sense of humor", Scratch bit, as he walked out in front of the manor to get a better view. "He's going to come this way, isn't he?"

But the giant was pre-occupied. A raging direwolf was biting at his leg, trying to tear it out from under him.

It was Alpheba, the young woman that carried the werewolf curse for her master.

The spiked ball impacted her on the side and send her flying into the air.

"Young fool! Unrestrained bravery is no virtue." Lydia cursed, and began to change in order to spring to her aid.

But Scratch raised his hand. "She had a little pottery place where he stepped, must have lost her temper. Give me my microphone."

-

It was clear by now that when Scratch said microphone he meant the spellrod with voice enhancer.

The manabelt eagerly sucked at his artery and his arm stung painfully has he hoisted himself up the side of a building.

As always, he had to consciously order it not to poison him in the process.

But it produced the mana he need to throw his voice.

"Hey, Hans! Kraut! This isn't duel country. You put away the torture device, I'm *officially* declining your challenge."

The suit of armor pointed a giant finger at him. "You!" And began sprinting.

Two houses were ruined in his path, but not the adventurer's guildhouse that Scratch was standing on. Because a magic circle appeared around it and a flash of light knocked the attacker over.

-

Once a man has lost his balance, the fight is usually over.

This was a giant however, and it took three trolls hacking their large axes into his knee to keep him down.

The giant weapon was wrested away from him and his arms tied up by an actual army's worth of goblins.

A puff of steam came out of the chest-plate, and it folded open.

"What?"

"It's a siege harness."

A man climbed out, dressed in tight military garb.

The chest cavity of the giant had been a seat, surrounded by many levers and wheels for operating it. It was a machine.

"Surrender, invader, that you may see your family again after this war." Lydia announced.

"A schmetterling never surrenders. I will die with honor!" The young man drew his sword and pointed it at the guild house where Scratch stood with his hands on his hips.

"Fight me, you coward! You haven't got what it takes to-"

His voice was cut short by wolf Alpheba jumping over the downed mech and dragging him along in her maw.

She barely chewed and swallowed him almost whole.

Then she wretched and sauntered off.

"That's the calmest I've ever seen the direwolf." Scratch commented through his microphone.

"A big meal will calm them down," Lydia said, but she was too far away for him to hear.

The adventurers' guildmaster was less then pleased with how things turned out.

"Your lordship." She said in a furious staccato. "Is there any justification for the barony involving the guild in this conflict?"

"I didn't, you heard it yourself. I declined his challenge, so his charge at your building was completely against my wishes. I can't be blamed for it." Scratch hid the smugness on his face by intently studying the bloodspattered interior of the machine.

"Why is that bad?" Maenith whispered to his sister. "They live here too."

"Don't you read the daily papers?" She said at normal volume.

"No. They make a new one every day!"

Ada pursed her lips, because she was the 'they' that made one every day and she had quite the chore of it, assembling the letter blocks in the ink press for each custom message. "We're not allowed to have adventurers fight in the war. That's es-ca-la-tion."

"Why?"

"Because. It just is!"

The guildmaster turned to them, wagging a finger. "The adventurers' guild is a multi-national organization, it relies on the peaceful cooperation with the royal houses. We can neither allow the branches to turn against each other, nor can we allow the guild as a whole to take a side in war. Unless it is a holy war."

Scratch ears pricked up. "Holy wars? I didn't hear about those. Can we declare this a holy war?"

"The pope of Benesant's faith declares holy wars," Lydia explained, "when he declares a monarch to have become a source of corruption. It is the adventurers' guild's mission to defeat demon kings after all."

"Mhm. So we only need the pope to declare our opponent the demon king." Scratch said, "and we get to hire adventurers for military defense. Where does he live?"

"The Holy Basilica. In Blurich."

"Never mind then, better he stay out of it." Ada sighed.

While they were discussing geopolitics, the guildmaster had levitated herself onto the mech.

She held out her hand.

"Walgis' Hand!"

"Whoah! Hey! HEY!" Scratch wildly waved his arms about.

To Guth's subhumans, the magic she cast filled every inch of air with scribbles, circles, and diagrams.

The magic was so powerful, and the mana she had brough forth to cast it so intense, that he thought he was about to be desintegrated.

But when the lines of magic subsided, nothing had changed.

Just that she now held two cards in her hand.

"Here." She held one up to him. "[Deniable Goad]. That's you, isn't it?"

The translucent playing card showed a picture of Scratch on the guildhouse, with the siege harness in the background.

"What is that? A whisk card?"

She pocketed it. "My magic allows me to accelerate the appearance of world memories. I will be including this into my report to the count."

"It says it's deniable though."

"Not with a world memory, it isn't."

"Will this come back to haunt us?" Scratch asked, when they came back to the manor.

"If the Blurichan Nobility find out, they might consider it a valid excuse to enlist Blurichan members of the guild." Lydia said. "The Schmetterling line most of all, whatever it was their station is, would push for it. Since they lost a son today."

"Good."

"Good?"

"That means the count won't want this info to spread any further either."

"So it only matters if they are looking for an excuse." Ada noted.

Her mother tilted her head. "What do you mean?"

"Well... because... if they don't use the excuse, the war doesn't escalate. If they do you use the excuse, the war *does* escalate. So it only depends on if they want to escalate."

"That's good. That's very observant Ada," Scratch said as he threw himself on the couch, "if the enemy wasn't willing to break up a major paramilitary institution before, they won't be now, as long as they think of it as a one-off."

"That it is." Lydia said, "Youthere said it before, sneaking deep into enemy territory is not a viable military strategy. This Schmetterling has defied his commander in the hopes of becoming a war hero.

It won't happen again, I'm sure the Blurichan military will make sure of that."

"Well I'm relieved," Scratch stretched himself out, "I suppose the only consequence is that miss 'walgis hand' now has a stick up her butt about me."

"She's just cranky because the war killed her business." Barbara walked in, joining the discussion.

"Sure, come right in, don't knock or anything."

"I just lost two hundred gold in earthenware due to a soldier in the war *you* started," she said.

"The war I started? That is not the official narrative."

"Oh I'm sure you've got a whisk card about it hidden away in the dungeon somewhere," she waved her hand. "If you're not going to compensate me for lost goods, the least you can do is let me use the warping circle. The one in Eston has been blocked."

"All warping circles are blocked in times of war," Lydia said, "otherwise enemy knights could make use of them."

Barbara grinned, "but not the one in the dungeon. That one is extra rare now, and it can be used to smuggle high-grade items that can't be transported through the border."

"Barbara." Scratch sighed. "You can't even use warp magic."

"I have access to people that can."

"And you're going to give those people an inside look at my basement."

"Just the circle part."

"...I'll have to charge you for it."

"I can pay it! These are high-grade items."

"Fine." Scratch threw up a hand, defeated, "do as you like. Make an appointment with Ada."

-

While she began negotiating with the administrative office that was his offspring, Scratch left for the basement.

Between the pumps dumping waste treatment byproduct out into the ocean, chimneys funneling the foundry's fumes towards the surface, and conduits for Noss Fleder's magical substances, the back

half of the basement layer was turning into quite the mess of pipes, and Scratch had to look where he stepped.

"The witch isn't here, is she?" He asked when he came to the vampire's layer.

Noss turned around and took off his safety goggles, "unfortunately not. She must retreat to zhe lesser zanctums from time to time, to take on her real form."

"Real form? The hag is her real form."

Noss seemed offended by this notion, he put the goggles back on and returned to his work.

He was etching some magical processes into a large magical gem. Scratch could make out the lines of magical energy emanating from it and forming complex moving patterns.

"I'm not intruding on your time, am I? I'd hate to disturb Lord Fleder with anything that doesn't pertain to his interests, or the free room and board we provide for him."

There was no response.

"No but seriously, I need someone to come look at a robot, tell me if we can replicate-"

"Eureka!" Scratch lifted up the gem and placed it into its metal and wire container.

Scratch tried to get a miffed glance at his work, "whatcha doin'?"

"Zhis spells zhe end of our mana scarcity, und zhe beginning of a new era!" The vampire boy stepped aside to show her rectangular box.

"I didn't even know whe had a mana scarcity, isn't the entire dungeon a big mana fountain? What is this thing?" Scratch leaned in to poke his finger into the ephemereal magical flow.

"Mana is replenished quickly vithin zhe dungeon, yes, und it can power sanctums. But ve can not carry zhis benefit out onto our lands, each person can only carry out as much mana as zheir body can store."

"Aren't these ones just undoing what you do here? Why not just keep the whole algorithm inverted start to finish?"

Noss slapped away his hand. "Anyvay, zhis vill provide zhe Fairy Queen Vitch of Guth zhe added mana storage zhat she needs to maintain her transformation. I call it... zhe energy-ingesting-and-excreting magnosilican artificial manabladder."

Scratch raised en eyebrow, "how about 'mana battery'?"

"Vhat? Is does no batter anyzhing. Give me a spellrod, do you have one on you?"

Scratch wanted to deny him, but he had just used the voice amplifier and it still stuck prominently out his breast pocket.

He handed it over.

Noss tied some organic looking connectors directly to the rod's gem.

He then began quickly turning a swivel, which made the energy-ingesting-and-excreting magnosilican artificial manabladder began to whirr.

He looked exitedly at Scratch, who looked back at him with the sort of expression one might expect from a schoolteacher having ironic internet memes explained to them by a twelve year old student.

Eventually the vampire could let go of the swivel and the machine continued to hum under its own power.

He picked up the rod. "No mana required. Try it."

Scratch leaned forward and spoke into it, "Te-"

*BANG!*

For half a second the sound was so strong that it split their ears and shook the room's machinery. Then the energy-intesting-and-excreting magnosilican artificial manabladder cracked and burst, stopping the effect.

Scratch grabbed his ears, which were bleeding. "YOU BLOODY IDJIT, WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!?"

"IT MUST BE A MISTAKE IN THE EXCRETION ETCHINGS, I CAN FIX IT!"

They were both yelling to get above the ringing in their ears.

Hobgoblins came running due to the commotion, and Scratch ended up getting healed.

Noss had to fight off healing, which would have only hurt him more.

-

"I vill have to make it bigger." He eventually said. "Zhe interplay between magical conduits is more complicated zhan I had anticipated, I vill need to include more gems."

"Even at this size, it's already quite large." Scratch sighed, "how long would one of those extend the transformation spell?"

"...Two hours."

"Two hours, okay. So let's say Lacrima really limits here movements and is able to drop by the recharging station once a day. She'd still need to carry around twelve of these things."

"energy-ingesting-and-excreting magnosilican artificial manabladders."

"energy-ingesting-and-excreting magnosilican artificial manabladders, yes. That's- Well it's not quite a wagon full, but it's close. Where do you expect her to keep those? Huh? On her belt? A travelling cart maybe? Switch them out every two hours?"

Noss stared at the floor.

"Come," Scratch stood up and patted his shoulder, "it'll be sundown soon. I want you to come check something out for me."

The metal man was quickly stripped, like a carcass picked apart by scavengers.

The goblins crawled over and through its body, and by night, it had become a skeleton.

"Zhere. Zhese are zhe Forma Lines." Noss pointed at the blue cables wired through the siege harness' exposed innermost framework.

"I'm not seeing any gems or curses in here." Scratch said, referring to the magical sight.

"Of course not."

"So how does it move?"

"Blurichan engineering, nozhing magical about it, I'm afraid. Zhere are mechanism... pistons, zhat make zhe joints move. It's not of much interest to a mage."

Scratch frowned, "what're you saying? That nothing about this is magical?"

"Just a machine."

"It's a goddamn giant robot, Fleder. There's no engineering that."

Noss shrugged.

"Why don't you tell Papa Scratch some more about forma lines, dearie?"

"Wh- Oh Christ." Scratch flinched, not having seen Lacrima sneak up on them.

"The forma lines can hardly be called engineering, can they?" She said sweetly.

"Uh-huh, any business here?" Scratch said with dismay.

"True..." Noss said, while thinking, "forma lines are zhe control system. Zhey are grown rather zhan crafted, but zhey are non-magical non-zheless."

Lacrima chuckled. "How very much like a sorcerer to think of magic as nothing more than spells and incantations. The forma lines are actually a crowning achievement of witchcraft; a lifeform brewed up to serve in perpetuity."

"Maybe I can leave you two to it, discussing the merits of black magic and moon goddesses and all that on your own."

But she stopped him. "Scratch's inuition is correct, A machine like this could never move as it does without magic. All tendons and muscles in a human body are in a constant state of change, adjusting and correcting to keep the balance. And every simple movement is a collection of thousands of these adjustments. A pilot could never control such a thing."

Noss turned to Scratch, "is zhat vhat you vanted to know? How zhis zhing is controlled."

"No, well- Yes, I guess." Scratch pinched the bridge of his nose. "Just... can you replicate it?"

"Ah. Vell no. Zhey are grown, you know? Not conjured."

Lacrima walked up to what remained of the pilot's seat and pointed at it with her walking stick. "These vines are why today, witches in Blurich are no longer persecuted. The great cauldron in the heartland mountains is the only thing that produces them. You might repurpose some of them here, but you cannot recreate them."

"Can you do that?" Scratch asked Noss.

"Zhat is not my area of expertise."

"If all vines are undamaged, there must be craftsmen among your little community that can do something with them." Lacrima smiled, "It is good that you're developing an interest in Guth's gifts, since you are now one of her warriors."

Scratch smiled awkwardly back. "I don't need all of them. I'm sure we can invent a more economical design. Something that doesn't *need* to keep its balance."

"No. There is only one design. Forma lines take the shape of a human nervous system, and humans use their minds to control them. Only man-shaped machines can be controlled by them." She tapped Noss on the shoulder, "you had a new mana solution to show me."

Before they left, Noss addressed Scratch. "Building a siege harness vill do us no good. Zhey can not match zhe power of high ranking heroes, no matter who's piloting zhem. I suggest you forget about it, zhey can not be improved upon anyvay."

[The young master has improved upon the siege harness design yet again!]

There sure is a lot of praise coming from the tribunes.

Well, I guess I am really amazing.

[Silence! It might be impressive, but I see no proof that this is an improvement,] the herzog says, [let us put it to the test.]

I look up at Lothar, [are you ready!]

[Bring it on! I'll show everybody the genius of Diedrich's design!]

He retreats into the seat and the front plate closes.

As his mind enters the forma lines the harness' limbs twitch.

Four legs shift to find their balance.

Two shoulders roll and lift up the giant lance.

....

It's so cooool!

My centaur robot is so cool!

The way the extra pair of legs give it speed and stability.

The way it uses a lance just like a jouster.

And every part just fits to together just right... Aaaah!

I love giant robots so much!

But I love giant robots fighting even more.

Lothar is skewering the herzog's men.

I guess it's not really fair, because I told him exactly where to aim to sever the forma lines of the opponents. But we have to play unfair for a bit, because an arena like this doesn't even show off the centauroid's strongest features.

The fact that he can run for a long time, and the fact that you can stop and exit without sitting the robot down and it won't fall over.

If we impress the herzog enough, I'm sure we will demonstrate its strength in the field soon enough!

-

I look at the herzog.

His mustache is curling up. I think that's a good thing!

Across the arena I can see Wahnzin, in the witch section. She's wearing her uniform with the witch hat and armband.

She's following the battle more intensely than I had expected.

I guess the stakes are high for her as well.

It seems like Lothar has won the battle. The other pilots are already climbing out of their siege harnesses.

The spectators are cheering so much. It makes me happy.

Lothar is throwing up his hands to elicit further applause.

No Lothar! Bow! Bowing for the herzog is what you're supposed to be doing right now!

I lock eyes with Whanzin and she's not happy either.

I try to gesture a bow to him as best as I can without being too obvious, but I'm already attracting attention and I have to stop.

Eventually he gets it and bends the sieg harness forward at the waist, bowing for the Herzog.

The Herzog stands up. [I have seen enough! This new generation of siege harness is clearly ready for war. Diedrich Stahl.]

I go before him and hail him with a stretched arm, as father has repeatedly drilled me to do.

[I appoint you siege smith of the Monshauser crucible. You shall oversee the armament of our next fighting force.]

Yes!

This is all I wanted.

I get to work with giant robots all day!

This is everything I wished for ever since I was born in this new world!

[With your advancements, the house of Monshauser will sure play a vital role in winning the war and brining the kingdom of Reddington to its knees!]

[Huzzah!]

[Huzzah!]

Everybody's cheering.

....

Eh?

I thought these robots would be used to fight monsters.

We'll be fighting against actual people?

I hope they have cool robots too!

Blödschicht

Adventurers within the kingdom of Blurich must observe the blödschicht ranking.

According to ancient law, abhumans are considered inferior. This can cause problems for adventurers that enjoy a lesser rank, as they will be inhibited in their freedoms in ways that they are not in other countries.

Humans possess the highest ranked blood within Blurichan society. Foreign adventurers are allowed to travel unimpeded and carry weapons, but may not make a Blurichan town their home for any extended period of time without obtaining citizenship and purity test.

Abhumans are divided into two groups; civilized and barbaric.

Any adventurer of the following ancestries can expect the treatment of a civilized abhuman: Dwarf, Elf, Halfling, Starborn, or Witch.

Other races are considered barbaric.

Civilized abhumans may travel freely over the main roads of Blurich, but will be barred from entering noble manors and some private establishments. They may not touch nobility, and contracts signed by them carry no legal value.

Barbaric abhumans within Blurich are considered slaves according to the blödschicht, regardless of pedigree. They may not travel without a human escort, and are at risk of being kidnapped and sold in a slave market. It is therefore highly discouraged for adventurers of these ancestries to travel into Blurich.

Addendum

Please also be aware that public displays of affection between humans and abhumans are seriously frowned upon within Blurichan society and can escalate into violence.

Second addendum

a number of ancestries recognized as abhuman by the guild are not recognized as such by Blurichan law and are treated as monsters. These ancestries are: awakened undead, noble goblins, and djinn.