Nero Walker, Book 3 Ch.67 (182) (Patreon)

While in many ways, dwarves and humans were very much alike, in others, they were drastically different.

As a race, dwarves tended to be forthright and honest. That is to say, they considered lying and scheming both a waste of time and cowardly. So, it wasn’t a surprise to anyone when Ambassador Ironwick protested vociferously when he was promoted to his position. No dwarf in their right mind would want to go deal with the lying, thieving humans infesting the surface world.

Yet, despite his many protests, his numerous victories in the challenge hall, and his loudly shouted threats that he would do everything in his power to ruin their relations with the humans, he was still promoted to Ambassador and sent on his merry way.

Several weeks of travel, along with a few teleports, led to the ambassador finally arriving in Hennings.

Grumbling loudly, Ambassador Ironwick stomped through wooden hallways toward the meeting. He could ‘feel’ the dwarves behind him silently laughing their beards off at his poorly hidden wrath.

With his stubby, armor-encased, legs stomping into the room, he wasn’t surprised to see everyone turning to watch him enter.

Seeing members of the dwarven contingent sitting off to one side, he turned on his heel and marched over to them. Not even bothering to wait for them to reorganize the seating, he grabbed the first dwarf within range, hauled him up out of his chair, and tossed him over his shoulder. Before the poor dwarf even hit the ground, Ironwick had already hopped up into the now-empty chair and glared at everyone around him.

Across from the 5 seats for the dwarves, 5 human nobles were sitting in all their finery, looking like the wastes of minerals that they were. Off to the side sat the king on his throne, watching over everything with a blank look on his face.

Ironwick scowled, as seeing someone hiding their emotions was tantamount to them declaring, ‘I’m going to lie to you, so don’t bother listening to a word I say!’

The king, well aware of how ‘real’ dwarves viewed humans, greeted him, “Ambassador Ironwick, thank you for joining us. I’m sorry to hear that none of the Shattershields were willing to make the trip. But, I’m happy to have you here representing them. It’s been many years, but I remember you quite well.”

Ironwick’s scowl turned into a frown, as he didn’t remember ever meeting the king. “Oi, you claiming we met before?”

The king nodded, allowing a small smile to adorn his face. “It was during the fire demon incursion at the Temple of Mourning. I was serving as a captain under General Abernathy.”

Raising his eyebrows in surprise, Ambassador Ironwick looked deep into his memories and found the king’s much younger-looking eyes staring at him from across a table laden with maps and war documents.

“Aye, I remember you now. By the gods boy, how are you still alive? I thought you humans only lived a few centuries,” he said while smiling fondly at the memory of the battered and blood-covered young man standing tall in front of a fire demon.

Although the nobles looked quite offended, the king took the dwarf's question at face value and replied, “For the most part, that’s true. However, there are a few of us who manage to live to see 1000.”

Nodding, Ambassador Ironwick decided that the human king wasn’t as much of a disappointment as he’d thought he’d be. Perhaps he should have actually read that briefing packet he’d been given. ‘Bah, it doesn’t matter. The fiddly bits will work themselves out,’ he told himself.

Pulling out a flask from the dimensional pocket on his hip, Ironwick asked, “So, I’m told that you lot want to renegotiate the terms of the treaty. If I’m not wrong, the current one is supposed to hold for another 300 years. Now, normally, I’d just tell ye to bugger off and be done with ya. But, for the battle honors you’ve earned in defense of my people, I’ll hear what ye have to say. So, speak king, and tell me what you want.”

The dwarven contingent was mostly made up of dwarves who’d spent a significant amount of time above ground. All of them had gotten used to how humans do things, and as a group, they all collectively face-palmed at having their ambassador embarrass them so completely.

Dwarven society was complicated, but at its core, it was based around clans and their leaders. Their personal honor and accomplishments meant everything to them, coming second only to their responsibility to their clan. So, for surface-based dwarfs, they were caught between the societal need to respect a powerful elder like Ironwick, and their desire to succeed at their duty as envoys.

The king saw all, and he knew that despite the envoys being essentially shorter human nobles, dwarven policymakers were all gruff warriors and blacksmiths who were not made for leadership halls and politics. Dwarves with real power would have never been assigned to serve their clans above ground. He could waste hours speaking with the envoys, but unless he convinced the ambassador, his efforts would be wasted.

When it came right down to it, dwarves followed their clans, and their clans followed the will of their leader. Here, now, Ironwick was acting as the clan chief’s representative, and he’s who the king had to convince. A dwarf like him preferred straight talk, and respected actions, not words.

“I’d like for clan Shattershield to open up their passes through the Oakentree Mountains. We, as a people, would like access so that we may expand into the Fields of Rock. In return, we’ll increase our trade obligations and allow you to expand East into our kingdom. We’re willing to join a few more sub-cities and expand our treaty to include more companion cities,” he said, keeping his voice calm but firm.

Ironwick’s hard face didn’t move a muscle. But everyone could see the gears turning in his head. The room sat in silence as Ironwick calmly tapped one of his gauntleted fingers on the table in a slow but steady rhythm.

Months and months of talks and planning had led up to the king making this proposal to someone with the power to actually approve it. Yet, patience was the key to dealing with dwarves, so the room remained in silence as the Ambassador considered how he wanted to answer the king’s proposal.

—--

Nero’s peaceful sleep was continuously interrupted by Vera pinging him. And when he got fed up and stopped answering her, she came directly into his room and shoved the papers he needed to sign directly in his face. There was no escaping her.

But, eventually, it all worked out. The paperwork was filed, and Nero was provisionally raised to the status of a unique citizen. ‘Big whoop,’ he thought to himself.

As it was now almost dawn, Nero gave up on getting any more sleep. So, instead, he decided to tackle the experience he felt weighing down on his center. He’d come to think of it as an empty kiddy pool attached to his soul, which filled itself up from the random encounters and situations he kept finding himself in.

Even though it had only been a few days since he’d leveled, he still had a few realizations and personal revelations that he needed to work through. So, seeing as he had a few hours before he’d planned on doing anything, he decided to go through what he could in the time he had available.

As usual, he laid down on his bed and let his mind sink into his inner world. Returning to his cobblestone path, he looked around to see a fresh batch of memories waiting for processing. Surprisingly, it wasn’t nearly as bad as he thought it would be.

Digging in, he started with a random memory which was surprisingly his first encounter with ‘the rippers’, who were the army division sent to escort him back to Dorchester. Replaying the memory led to more than a few chuckles, and a broadened perspective as to what it meant to be in the army.

He cycled through his meeting with the first evaluator lady, and then carefully reviewed his conversations with Nick and Academian Quincy. Then came the memories of his conversation with Arch-mage Jennings.

Once again confronted with the memory of the arch-mage explaining in detail why every one of his choices had consequences far beyond anything he could imagine, let alone understand.

As he remembered the weight of responsibility bearing down on him, Nero felt the sky in his inner world darken. The air on his cobble-stone path became chilly, and the woods around him looked a little more dangerous than they did when he arrived.

Seeing the visual representation of his inner fears being given form, Nero responded in the only way he knew how… that is to say with insults and anger.

Glaring at the cloud-covered sky, Nero shouted, “I call bullshit! I refuse to ‘internalize’ this type of crap. Sure, my choices have consequences, so what?!? I will not be held accountable for other people sucking. If I’m gonna take responsibility for something, then it damn well will be someone I’ve personally done. I’m gonna do whatever the hell that I want, and however the rest of the world responds to my actions is up to them. So bring back the sun, as I’m not leaving here until I purge this emo-charged bullshit from whatever this place is supposed to represent!”

Like a switch was flipped, the clouds in the sky broke apart, revealing the sun again. The shadows lightened, and the woods returned to their enchanting beauty. Nodding in appreciation, Nero stood with his hands on his hips and congratulated himself on not embracing the responsibility of managing other people’s stupidity.

Doing his final review of everything he’d ‘experienced’, Nero focused on trying to look at things from a wider perspective, setting their local beliefs in a context he could understand. It wasn’t easy, but by the time he was done, he was able to think of himself as a ‘unique’ without wanting to punch himself in the balls for being overdramatic.

Coming out of his inner world, he opened his eyes to stare at his identity panel.

Name Nero Walker

Level 15

Race Human

Growth 48%

Tier 1

Condition 100%

Age 14

Center 100%

Body 4

Mind 5

Soul 2

Confluence 11

Stars 0

Pillars 2 / 1

Nero frowned at his lackluster progress. Then he immediately chided himself for being greedy. It wasn’t like he should have expected a level from just trying to wrap his head around how they do things here in Oglivarch. If anything, he should be happy that he progressed as much as he did.

Checking the time, he saw that it was now almost 7:30 am. All in all, he’d had about 6 hours of broken sleep. Which, when he looked at it objectively wasn’t all that bad.

Deciding that he might as well start his day, he took a shower and got dressed. For the first time in a while, he opted not to wear his combat gear. Instead, he pulled out the enchanted robes Nick and Vera had given him a couple of months ago.

Looking at himself in the mirror, Nero frowned at the bland gray robes. He knew that gray represented neutrality or something, but he really wasn’t in the mood to look like a 5’ 4’’ stick of chalk. Between his white hair, pale complexion, and his abnormally blue eyes, he came to the obvious conclusion that gray was not his color.

Mentally tossing the subject to the back of his head, he left his room in search of breakfast. Two short hallways and a couple of turns led him back to the living room they’d been meeting in.

Snorting as if he saw exactly what he’d been expecting, Nero looked around to see everyone already up and spread out enjoying their breakfast.

Nick, Vera, Quincy, and Idrius were all sharing a table, probably discussing something that he’d eventually end up having to deal with.

Groups of mercenaries were spread out around different couches and tables, all equidistant from Cathleen, Rose, and another woman who Nero remembered being introduced to as their leader. ‘Her name is Keening or something like that,’ he thought to himself as he scanned the room.

Continuing to look around, Nero noticed that there were a few of the estate’s servants floating through the room, refilling food trays and replacing half-full pitchers.

Yet, he didn’t see the rest of the evaluators. ‘What are they up to? Maybe still dealing with the paperwork or something?’ he wondered.

“Nero, I’m glad to see you embracing getting up at a decent hour. Come, have some breakfast before we get started,” said Vera, her volume loud enough to cut through the room, but falling just short of turning into a shout.

Amused at Vera’s demanding tone, Nero made his way over to their table. After offering everyone a polite nod in place of a greeting, he sat down and started filling up his plate with pastries from the tray in the center of the table.

Around him, the conversation continued on without him.

Quincy and Idrius were discussing their living arrangements at the keep, questioning if Vera and Nick had a problem putting them up while Nero was staying at the estate. Vera, of course, pretended to be delighted to have them, stating categorically that scholars from the Royal Academy were always welcome within the walls of House Verena. Then came the predictable trading of compliments. ‘Your home is lovely’, ‘It must be exciting living in the capital’, ‘It’s a shame you won’t be traveling with Lord Walker’, blah blah blah.

Nero looked up at that last one, giving Nick and Vera a glance that tried to convey his understanding. He now knew what his being a unique meant for their little pseudo-family. They’d only been together for a few months, but they learned to trust each other enough to rely on one another.

Nick coughed into his hand to clear his throat, and said, “Yes, well, Nero won’t be going anywhere anytime soon. And when he does, he knows that we’ll be here if he needs us. Technically, we’re now a branch of House Walker, so this is his home now too.”

Vera, ever the pragmatist, added, “Although, he still has the estate he acquired from the noble war with the Dorchens. That is in actuality his home. Which reminds me,” she turned to look at Nero and asked, “Do you want to move there? Or shall I tell the staff there to continue treating it as an unused holding?”

Nero, mid-chew with a pastry, looked up at her with some confusion. After swallowing, he asked, “What does that mean? We’re not gonna fire them all, are we? I thought I had enough money coming in to let them carry on with their duties and whatnot.”

Vera nodded, and replied, “You could. Technically, they are now all employees of House Verena. And as the lady of the house, I don’t like seeing wasted potential. So, if you’re not going to be staying there, I’ll be transferring them to other positions. Having them perform upkeep on an empty estate is pointless, and more than a little wasteful.”

Nero was happy to hear that the employees he’d been ignoring were now in Vera’s capable hands. “No, that’s fine. If you don’t mind me staying here, then you can do whatever you want with them. In fact, do I even really need the estate? Do you guys want it?”

Academian Quincy butted in, “Actually Nero, that estate is now your formal residence within Dorchester. You can think of it like an embassy of sorts, but just for your personal house.”

Nero wasn’t sure exactly what that meant, but rather than ask for clarification, he decided to skip to the end, “So, I need to keep it?”

Everyone around the table nodded, while Vera added, “Yes, Nero. You need to keep it. The purpose of an estate is to -”

Shrugging, he interrupted her before she got going. “Fine with me. I’ll keep the place. Moving on!”

After a few seconds of silence where no one chose to bring up a new topic, Nero asked, “So, all the paperwork and crap is filed? No problems?”

Scholar Idrius replied, “Everything is filed, and it turned out exactly as expected. You’re now a provisional unique until such time as our evaluation is completed and your updated file is closed. For now, you are a unique in principle, and therefore due all the rights and benefits that your position entitles you to.”

Nero raised an eyebrow at that, as it sounded like a statement that should come with a plaque or maybe a medal… at the very least a few balloons and a card.

Academian Quincy joined in, by adding, “You can now legally acquire adherents, choose your personal house’s colors and words, and formally refer to yourself as Lord Walker. You now are, in fact, a lord. You are no longer under the trials, and your rights are no longer provisional in regards to your standing as a new noble.”

Nero frowned as thought of something. “So, am I no longer under the protection of the royals? Not that it really stopped anyone from trying to kill me, but whatever.”

Academian Quincy replied, “That’s correct. Your protection under the accords governing new nobles no longer applies. That being said, I doubt anyone would bother trying to kill you at this point. It would be both counter-productive for Dorchester’s well-being, and not to mention short-sighted.”

Nero snorted and replied, “Yeah, 'cause everyone here is ‘sooo’ logical. There must be some weird cultural thing that helps you all ignore the blatant self-interest that your entire system is based on. It’s like you recognize that humans are horribly self-centered, and you somehow think by recognizing it and incorporating it into your laws, you’ll somehow escape the drawbacks of people being assholes.”

Nick, stepping up once again to defend Oglivarchian culture, replied, “It’s not that we believe we’ll be able to stop people from breaking the law or acting against the greater good. It’s that we have dedicated millennia to crafting a system of government that incorporates that self-interest while channeling it toward socially progressive outlets. If someone wants to move up the ladder, they must serve the community. It’s their self-interest which compels them to act responsibly.”

Vera added, “I’ve cautioned you before about looking at this world through the lens of what you’ve experienced in your previous life. Here, you can’t expect people to behave in a way that conforms to social structures that don’t exist here. I promise you, there is literally no longer any reason for anyone from Dorchester to try and kill you.”

Nero lazily looked up from his plate of pastries, his mouth riddled with frosting. “Uh-huh. I’m totally safe now. Got it.”

Academian Quincy noted Nero’s sarcastic tone and failed to stifle his chuckle.

Scholar Idrius on the other hand, seemed to want to understand what Nero was thinking. “Why do you believe you’re still in danger? Now that you’re a unique, no one here can gain anything by your death.”

Nero looked up at her with a smile, only to see her staring back at him with an expression completely devoid of humor. Seeing that, he scoffed loudly, amazed at what he could only assume was naivety.

Setting down his pastry, he leaned back in his chair and adopted his ‘I know better than you’ look. “People don’t need an actual reason to do anything. They think they do, but they don’t. Usually, someone decides they want to do something, then they go about doing mental arithmetic until they can justify doing what they wanted to do in the first place. If someone wants me dead, then they’ll find a good reason to try and kill me. Laws and social conventions barely even enter into it unless you’re talking about how hard it will be for them to justify their actions,” he said, his tone full of compassion and understanding.

Scholar Idrius was no stranger to intellectual debates, and immediately replied, “But that implies that they would have a reason to want you dead. Now that you are a unique, you are completely outside of the nobility structure. There is no shortage of resources, or gains to be had with your removal from the board. Or do you believe your mere presence is enough to elicit homicidal feelings in the local nobility?”

Nero laughed, as that was a good one. “No, I don’t think I’m that bad. However, there are probably countless reasons that someone could be pissed at me. Whether it was because I did something that caused them problems, or it could even be something simple… like jealousy.”

Academian Quincy joined in the conversation by saying, “It’s conceivable that someone would be jealous enough to try and arrange for your death. I would classify it as extremely unlikely, but it is possible.”

Nero saw Scholar Idrius frown as if Academian Quincy’s statement somehow refuted her argument. Looking around the table, he could see that everyone was acting worried for some reason.

Nero did not want to let them stew in their dark thoughts, “Look, I’m not saying that I’m guaranteed to have a price on my head or anything. I’m just saying that I’m not holding out much hope for the whole ‘unique’ thing to dissuade anyone. From what I can tell, the ‘unique’ thing is more about keeping powerful people out of power than anything else.”

Nick looked over at Nero with a confused expression on his face. “What do you mean by that?”

Nero replied quickly, “I mean exactly that. When you and Quince here were talking about ‘heroes’, ‘bards’, ‘loremasters’, and other special types… you got your point across. Loud and clear.” As he finished speaking, he flicked his nose as if he were signaling that he was now ‘in’ on the plot.

Still confused, Nick asked, “Nero, I honestly have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Looking back and forth between Nick and Quincy, Nero could tell that neither of them knew what he was referring to.

Thinking that he might have misunderstood something, Nero asked, “You both told me that all those special citizen types were outside the nobility structure and that they couldn’t own business interests and the like, right?”

The entire table nodded.

Nero then continued, “You also said that they were taken out of the politics so they would no longer be under threat by the noble games and ladders and stuff. Which of course is a completely logical and civic-conscious way to save the lives of special citizens who could aid the kingdom with their special skills. However, if you look at it another way, it’s also a great way to make sure that people who are capable of disrupting the delicate balance of power are kept politically weak and ineffectual. What better way to handle difficult people than to ‘promote’ them out of the advancement pool.”

The entire table sat in silence, digesting Nero’s theory.

Academian Quincy broke first. “Well, he’s not wrong. Since its inception, the class designations have kept some pretty powerful people out of politics. Even ‘The Siren’ now runs her city from the shadows, as she can’t hold a position in the court she established.”

Vera added, “In a way, Nero is lucky to be a unique. If he were to have been raised to a ‘hero’ instead, then he would have been forced to sell off all of his assets so that he could represent Dorchester as its champion. While in many ways it would be an honor, not to mention profitable, it would also severely limit his options. As a unique, he can still travel and set up houses wherever he wants.”

Nero shrugged. He didn’t really care too much about the details of why he was right, just that he was. He always looked at things from a pessimistic standpoint bordering on ‘conspiracy theory’ level nuttery. It was one of the many reasons he refused to take anything he heard at more than face value.

Nero really didn’t want to continue with the conversation, as blowing people’s minds with the truth was not on this morning’s agenda. So instead, he clapped his hands loudly and changed the subject.

“So, who’s ready to sign up some folks to follow me into adventure, glory, and possibly death?” he asked with a grim, yet excited, smile on his face.