Chapter 11

A man sat at his desk in a building just outside of Bickenstadt harbor. He was the police captain in charge of keeping the docks safe. After thirty years of diligent work to keep the peace in Bickenstadt harbor, which many say is the most important job in the city, he was rewarded with a whole precinct to manage.

He looked out of his window and saw the Bickenstadt Harbor Security Forces sprinting, their muskets held perfectly vertically against their shoulders even as they moved at full speed. His men were out mediating disputes and arresting wrongdoers. The people they were chasing, judging by their Navy blue Latewka’s, dark orange breeches, and black jack boots, students of Bickenstadt University.

Recently, his men had been arresting more and more students for getting into public brawls, which, if he was being honest, was almost heartening.

I’m just glad that kids these days care strongly about something.

After a few seconds a few more students passed by, this time with a dark purple Litewka and black breeches, the colors of Grössenstadt. The man laughed heartily and spoke to no one in particular.

“Looks like our kids like to start shit!”

He took a sip of his beverage, a drink made from beans imported from the Assai’id confederation. He found that drinking it in the morning made him more alert, and it didn’t have a crash nearly as bad as when Parm wore off. As he took a sip of what the Assai’iders called ‘Qahwa’, one of his men burst through the door to his office.

“Sir! There are some weird boats coming!”

He raised an eyebrow and quietly set down his cup.

“What do you mean ‘weird boats’?”

“I don’t know, they look like oversized canoes! They’re coming right towards us!”

The police captain grabbed the musket leaning against his desk.

“Do they look hostile?”

The guard shrugged.

“I don’t know! They mostly just look weird! It’s not like the other canoes we get sometimes, never seen ones like this!”

The captain sighed and shook his head.

“I don’t think it’s a crime to look weird, but I’ll check it out.”

The captain got up from his desk and gestured for the policeman to lead the way.

At the docks, the captain agreed that the boats looked weird. They did look like oversized canoes, but they had sails and it looked like a building in the middle of the deck. They looked like a mix of the longships Orkney sailors show up in occasionally and those giant floating fortresses the Wako use.

The captain walked over where the ships were entering and waited for someone to come out.

As the boat lowered a plank to the dock, a strangely dressed man flanked by what looked like two servants walked over it. He wore what looked to the chief like a gray tabard lined with vibrant red twine, though it covered only his semi-naked body instead of the plate armor a tabard was usually worn over.

On his tabard was a strange drawing of what looked like a dog walking under the sun. On his back was attached a large paddle with jagged, shining black stuff attached to the side. In his right hand he held a staff, a golden eagle sat atop a strange oblong platform, a snake dangling from its beak. The platform was a very vibrant green, and appeared to have small spines sticking out of it.

On his head we wore a very strange hat. It was what looked like a mass of green feathers attached to an intricately woven headband of various different beautiful, vibrant colors.

It gave off a similar effect as the plume he had seen on the Baron’s brayherd lieutennant’s helmet, though his faced forward, and this one was spread out like a peacock’s tail.

His face was sharp, angular, and fairly attractive. He had beautiful cyan color face paint, just in a rectangle over his goatee and underneath both eyes. On his feet were a simple looking pair of sandals, and on his shins were planks of wood with strange symbols carved into them, edged in that beautiful cyan paint on the man’s face.

Flanking him on either side were people wearing what looked like simple tan tabards, simple sandals, and nothing else. The hair of both people tied up in a ponytail with vibrant red string. At their waists were simple looking daggers, though the blades were made of the same strange material on the more impressive looking man’s strange weapon.

The man strode forward with all the haughtiness one would expect from an Empire noble, or perhaps a fat full -of-themself merchant. The man spoke, his voice was deep, and his language unlike anything the captain had ever heard before.

“Niltse! Niitotlacochcalcatl coyotl! Pipiltin miakpan Itlakah in Amoxtli! Nikpia tlahtoki nik mo tlahtoani!”

The captain stood there in silence. He had never heard any language even somewhat similar to this, and he had heard many working in Bickenstadt harbor. If they spoke a language he had never heard before, then he was most likely from somewhere very far away where they knew no Reikers. He noted with no small amount of anxiety the interest the man showed in his musket.

“Do you know Reikers? Reeeiiikeeerrs?”

The man tilted his head to the side.

“Tlen ka Reiiceers?”

The captain now knew for a fact that he did not speak Reikers. At this moment, the captain knew what he had to do: Find the Baron and make him deal with this. The captain gestured for the man to stay where he was and prayed to Auftragter that he understood.

“Stay here! I will find my boss!”

The man nodded slowly and spoke to who were most likely his attendants.

“Kinikneltoka techneki nik ka nikan?”

His attendants nodded and he gestured for the captain to leave.

Thank the gods, thought the captain gratefully as he scrambled off towards Castle Bickenstadt. Just a few steps out of the harbor area, he saw a giant man wearing incredibly bright armor, picking at a whole loaf of sourdough rye.

He’s here!

He sprinted over to the Baron and almost slammed into him. The Baron looked at the captain strangely and caught him as he tripped, standing him back up straight and dusting off the captain's poofy shirt.

“Baron! There’s a weird guy at the docks! He speaks a language I’ve never heard before! Do something about it!”

The Baron looked vaguely incredulous.

“How do you mean ‘weird guy’? Is he acting strangely?”

The captain gestured wildly.

“H-he looks weird! Go look at him! He’s got like a plume on his head! And some really nice paint!”

The Baron looked confused.

“Nice paint? Did he offer you paint?”

“Wha-No! Just, come on! Deal with him! He seems important! He has attendants!”

The Baron sighed and checked the pistol in his left breast holster.

“Alright, lead me to him.”

The captain breathed a sigh of relief and pointed over to the docks.

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Oh my God. He’s an Aztec!

The Baron was amazed. There was nothing in any literature he had read in this world, before or after being reincarnated that mentioned any Aztec like civilization.

The man at the docks bowed to him slightly before speaking. He was speaking a language that the Baron had never actually heard before, as in his world Nahuatl was only spoken by a very small group of people in Mexico. Luckily for the Baron, he had the gift from the gods that all reincarnations had: The Gift of Tongues.

“Hello! I am Tlacochcalcatl Coyotl! Pipiltin of much of Tlanzoma! I have been sent by my Huey Tlatoani to learn of the outside world!”

The Baron responded back in perfect Nahuatl, barely able to restrain a smug smile as he did so.

“It is good to meet you, Tlacochcalcatl. I am known as the Baron von Bickenstadt.”

Tlacochcalcatl’s eyes widened in surprise.

“You speak Nahuatl? Where could you have learned this?”

The Baron let the smile creep onto his face.

“I have the gift of translation, given to me by God above.”

Tlacochcalcatl smiled warmly.

“A fine gift indeed! If only Moteuczoma above, or maybe the Teomeh above him, saw fit to give me such a gift! You are truly blessed! Would you happen to be the Huey Tlatoani of this land?”

Moteuczoma? Like Montezuma? The actual guy?

The Baron held up his hands placatingly.

“I am not quite a king. My position is named ‘Baron’. I am the owner of a province of the Empire, I believe it is a position similar to yours, if I had to guess.”

“Empire? You are just one part of an Empire? How many cities of this size do your people possess? While not nearly as large as Great and Mighty Tenochtitlan, this is certainly impressive! A large, bustling city of this size is always a welcome sight!”

So it’s the same as in my old world? I wonder if their societal structure is the same as well? Well, not like I’m well versed in Aztec society anyway.

“This place is known as Bickenstadt, simply one of many Imperial cities. Before we continue talking, would you like to sample our hospitality? I imagine we have much to discuss.”

The man cross his arms across his chest nodded sagely.

“Kema, That would please me greatly.”

“Then come! Follow me to Bickenstadt castle!”

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Tlacochcalcatl looked to be enjoying the food provided to him. It was a delicious dish for how simple it was; salmon filet pan fried in Bvarian butter alongside various herbs and spices, served with a side of lemon.

“The food of your land is delicious! Though I do prefer Tlanzoman tomales overall I would say. We have much to learn from each other, of this I am sure!”

The Baron smiled and nodded. Even though that would be considered a backhanded compliment had another Imperial nobleman said something similar, the Baron had dealt with enough Brayherds to know that something like that was meant with no ill intent, just a statement of fact.

"Yes, I concur. I look forward to learning from your people, as well as teaching them the ways of the Empire, if you truly are interested in cultural exchange and understanding. Speaking of understanding, tell me about yourself. Who are you? And why are you here? I imagine you have come from quite far away.”

Tlacochcalcatl took another bite and smiled warmly as he set down his fork.

“I hail from the great Tlanzoma empire! I have been sent here at the behest of my Huey Tlatoani, the leader of our people, and he has sent me out at the behest of great Moteuczoma above! He has ordered that we are to learn from the outside world! Moteuczoma told our priests especially to learn of a strange powder we saw some Dwarves using as they trespassed on sacred lands.”

“Oh? Would you mind describing this powder? I have a feeling I know what it is you seek.”

“Moteuczoma described to our Tlamacazqui a coarse black powder which creates a large flash and loud noise when it comes into contact with fire of any kind. He said that it was powerful enough to topple empires!”

A wide smile crept across the Baron’s face as he listened to the Tlanzoman speak.

“Ah, it is as I suspected. You are describing gunpowder!”

Coyotl leaned forwards.

“You know about this Dwarven powder?”

“Of course. I use it quite often. It is used in a weapon known as a gun, as well as bombs and artillery.”

Tlamacazqui smiled brightly.

“Will you teach me about this ‘gun’ you speak of?”

The Baron smiled and scruffed his chin in thought.

“Of course! I would be happy to. If you provide me with something as well. I am sure you have knowledge we do not, and vice versa. I would like for us to learn from each other, on a large scale.”

Tlacochcalcatl tilted his head to the side.

“Vice Versa?”

“Oh, it’s a brayherd saying, it means ‘the other way around’.”

“Brayherd?”

“Oh, yes. You most likely do not know of them. Tell me, have you ever seen a goat?”

Coyotl shook his head.

“No.”

The Baron sighed.

“Well then, I will just have to show you.”

He called over a servant and sent them to get Gaius.

“He should be here shortly. Now, as an academic, I would love to learn what your people have to offer. And I am sure that you feel the same way. I suggest that we create a Tlanzoman quarter. A center of Tlanzoman knowledge on this continent, if you will. Built for the enrichment of both of our people. We could even send some of our own scholars to your lands, perhaps just to figure out your language at first.”

Tlacochcalcatl nodded his head.

“This is a good idea. I like it! I will send word to Huey Tlatoani informing him of my mission’s success, and a request for scholars to come live here. Incidentally, do you happen to have a map of the world? My goal was to arrive wherever the sea decided I would end up, but I have no knowledge of lands outside the Tlanzoma Empire.”

The Baron gestured to a nearby maid.

“Of course. Could you please retrieve a map? And maybe my son if you come across him? Thank you.”

The maid curtsied and walked off and the Baron had an idea to pass the time.

“Say, Tlacochcalcatl, would you like to see a gun? I can explain how it works.”

Tlacochcalcatl nodded his head emphatically.

“Of course!”

The Baron unholstered his pistol and set it on the table, opening up the flashpan and emptying the contents onto the table. He pointed to the powder as it was being emptied.

“That is for safety. This is known as a pistol. The smallest of all the firearms. You fill this, known as the flashpan, with black powder, and then cover it with the frizzen, this rough part here. Then, you pull back the hammer. The hammer has a small piece of flint on it, and when you pull the trigger here.”

The Baron pulled the trigger and the hammer fell, sparking against the frizzen.

“The flint produces a spark, and that lights the powder.”

Coyotl stared at it blankly. He was a noble, not a warrior, despite his imposing weapon, he likely had never seen black powder in action.

“I fail to see how this is used as a weapon.”

“Don't worry, I’m getting to that. I showed you just one part of the weapon system. Before I show you the rest, I would be interested in learning about your weapon there.”

The Baron pointed at the saw paddle leaning against the table.

“I have scarcely seen anything like it!”

Tlacochcalcatl immediately grabbed weapon and began speaking.

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“This is known as the Macuahuitl. It is a club with obsidian blades set into the edge. We have enchanted it so that the obsidian never breaks, using a method involving the sacrifice of a prisoner, something which we must do anyway to stay the wrath of Huitzilopochtli. We have found that the Macuahuitl is more reliable and effective than the weapons the dwarven expeditionary parties use.”

Tlacochcalcatl took a butter knife and struck it against the obsidian, cutting it apart with little apparent difficulty.

“Their sharpened metal has nowhere near the cutting power of obsidian. Naturally, it is very sharp, but brittle. With the proper enchantments added, it becomes nigh unbreakable! A properly made Macuahuitl has been known to tear through the weapons and armor of those silly

dwarves.”

My, so that’s why they’re still around.

The weapons and armor the conquistadors used to destroy the Aztec Empire in my world are far less impressive when you introduce magic into the equation. Though, human sacrifice may prove to be a problem. Hopefully Montezuma learned his lesson and refrains from doing it every day.

“Thank you for the explanation. I prefer my steel, personally. Simply too used to it at this point. Obsidian has a reputation for sharpness, yes, but since we don't have the proper enchantment methods, we tend to view it as more of a very rare curiosity than a practical material for making weapons, though I imagine with your people's guidance our assessment of that will change somewhat.”

The Baron lifted up his gun so that Tlacochcalcatl could get a better look.

“Alright, onto the rest of my pistol. This part is known as the barrel. You fill the barrel with black powder, followed by a bullet and wadding.”

The Baron produced a bullet and wadding from a pouch at his side.

“You put these in and then ram it down into the barrel using the ramrod. After that, when the hammer strikes the frizzen and ignites the powder, a small channel allows that flame to enter the barrel, which ignites the powder in there as well. The powder explodes, sending the bullet flying far faster and with much more force than any bow is capable of. Many people in the Empire still use bows, but I have found that an entire regiment of guns does far more damage than any amount of bowmen.”

He tapped his breastplate.

“If you fire from close enough range, a bullet will tear straight through an unenchanted cuirass.”

Tlacochcalcatl looked contemplative.

“How widespread is this weapon?”

The Baron smiled smugly.

“Oh it’s everywhere. I carry at least six on my person at all times. I field just over 300 men armed with them. at the moment, working on getting more, in fact.”

As Tlacochcalcatl looked bewildered, impressed, and scared at the same time, Gaius entered the room.

“Baronis? I have heard you called for me.”

Tlacochcalcatl looked even more bewildered, and slightly more scared.

“You are large! You do not have the face of a man! Like a mammalian Kuetspalixtin!”

Gaius looked to Tlacochcalcatl, and then to the Baron.

“What is he trying to say to me?”

The Baron gave him a bewildered smile.

“He has never seen a Brayherd before. He is simply a bit surprised.”

Gaius nodded his head.

“Ah. I see. I suppose it would be wery strange to see someone like me, if you have newer encountered anyone like me before. Wait, you can speak his language?”

“Gift from the gods.”

Gaius clicked his tongue.

“You lucky bastard.”

Tlacochcalcatl tore his eyes away from Gaius.

“What is it saying?”

The Baron frowned slightly.”

“What he, is saying is that he understands why you would react the way you have. He is just as intelligent as you or I, he just so happens to have the head and legs of a goat.”

Tlacochcalcatl was calming down, seeing how the Baron was describing Gaius so calmly to him, alongside Gaius’s fairly respectful posture and measured voice, made him realize that Gaius was not a monster.

“I rarely see something so…inhuman. Dwarves and Elves at least look like me, to an extent. And Kuetspalixtin are quite rare.”

What is a Kuetspalixtin? Not important, for now.

“You get used to it. Ah, here is my map.”

The Baron gratefully took the map from the servants hands and spread it out on the table.

It was a map of the world, though the entire western continent had only very vague labels and very rough lines denoting the coast, with things like ‘elves?’ and ‘dwarves’ written with large blocky letters over vast swaths of territory, and almost the entire southern part of the continent was just a single question mark with a very very rough landmass sketched out. The Island chain that made up the Wa shogunate was well documented, though. The Baron pointed to Bickenstadt on the map.

‘You are currently here. Bickenstadt. A province in the Empire.”

The Baron pointed to the area with a large question mark.

“Since we have never even heard a small mention of you, I assume you come from here. Our cartographers have figured out the basic idea of the continents, using information from other countries, but we are largely ignorant of what is actually there.”

Tlacochcalcatl looked contemplative.

“The world is far larger than I knew.”

He fully bowed his head to the Baron.

“I look forward to our people’s cooperation and learning. I hope we can become friends, your people and mine. Also, please tell your 'Brayherd'…Gaius? That I apologize for gawking like a farmer's boy.”

“Yes, even I am amazed at the sheer size of our world, and the sheer amount of new things to learn. Every time I have left the shores of my great country, I have found myself learning from everyone I meet. Oh, and it’s ok that you reacted like that. He’s used to it. Even if they're somewhat common here, many people still never get used to their presence. Gaius! My guest here, Tlacochcalcatl, apologizes for gawking at you. Also, you may leave should you wish to.”

Gaius bowed to Tlacochcalcatl and put his hand over his heart.

“I accept your apology. I will be off then. Jean has been wanting to paint me.”

The Baron chuffed and smiled bewilderedly.

“Really? Paint you?”

Gaius nodded his head, face completely deadpan, as usual.

“Etiam. See you when I am needed again, Baronis.”

Gaius left fairly quickly, and the Baron turned back to Tlacochcalcatl.

“Now that I think about it, can you actually get back to your homeland?”

Coyotl smiled.

“I am unsure. The sailors have told me that we arrived here more by luck than navigation.”

“Excellent. Alright then, we will work together to pinpoint where you are to sail to, and perhaps I will send along some of my men to help you navigate. We would need to work on translation, though. I cannot come with, I have much to attend to.”

Tlacochcalcatl bowed his head gratefully.

“I thank you, Baron von Bickenstadt. Now, before we discuss getting home, I feel we should discuss the details of this so-called Tlanzoman quarter…”

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Wolfgang, as usual, was stuck figuring out the logistics of the things the Baron promised without consulting him.

Creating housing was easy enough, but this was going to essentially be a diplomatic quarter, so he needed it to be perfect. Jean was a great help, but without any information as to what their architecture looks like, he had to make Imperial style housing for people completely unfamiliar with the Empire. It was very possible this could turn into a diplomatic nightmare.

“I doubt they’d even be useful for our revolt…why would he invite strangers to live in our city without even consulting me? What if they dislike our revolt?”

Wolfgang said out loud to no one in particular.

As much as he hated his father’s arbitrary decision making, he had to begrudgingly admit that it turned out pretty well most of the time, if only because Wolfgang forced it to work out. As Wolfgang filled out official paperwork which would begin construction on the diplomatic housing, the Baron quickly opened the door to his study, standing in the threshold.

“I’m not going to bother you too much, just letting you know Tlacochcalcatl has finally departed. We estimated it would take him around six months to sail home, get the permission of his king, gather the personnel, and then sail back here. So…you have plenty of time.”

The Baron turned to leave, then looked back at Wolfgang.

“Oh, also, I don’t plan on involving them in our plans unless they, for some reason, ask to assist us out of their own volition, so don’t worry too much about that. After you finish the paperwork for the building though, I do plan on starting a 'diplomatic' mission to the Assai’id soon, so we'll have to figure that out. Goodbye.”

The Baron shut the door, leaving Wolfgang alone to resist the urge to kill his father with his bare hands.