Elias Blackpool

“General,” I acknowledged my general’s arrival. Elias Blackpool was an intimidating figure. He was tall, nearly a foot above me, and had more of an apish look to him. He was human, but I was sure there was another people in his lineage. The armor he wore was resplendent. Black and gold and highly ornate with etchings and embossing and the pauldrons had lion heads on them. The regalia befit the leader of my royal guard. He didn’t like that Ariadne’s sorcery had touched it, but he relented when I insisted on the practicality of the protection.

That, and the several times it saved him from an assassin’s killing blow.

Prior to my rule he was a blacksmith. Brandis royal weaponsmith here in the palace. He relayed pertinent information that led directly to Brandis’ fall and when the time came he assisted in my ascension to the throne. Brandis had made the grievous error of mistreating everyone around him and they had finally had enough of him. His only loyalists were the bastards he called guards. He never considered the loyalty of the help, and that cost him his throne.

I could have thanked him and sent him back to the forge. I think that would have made him happy enough. Instead, I gave him a purpose worthy of a severe, serious man. I rewarded him by elevating his family, providing him with a position, and making him a top advisor.

He was a harsh man with a violent temper and a callow demeanor. His needs were simple, but his expectations were diabolical. They were black and white, and if he determined that something did not fit his understanding, he was more prone to reject it than change. Everything had its place and order was necessary for stability. His rigid, unbending philosophy was easy enough to work with once it was understood.

He constantly admonished Oliver for his bookish habits and his academic interests. Oliver had shown interest in metallurgy, but not the actual act of smithing, and when he dove into the occult Elias threw a fit. Elias valued physicality and was too myopic to see far beyond it. It was only when I stepped in and took Oliver on that Elias stopped his relentless harassment of his son. That Oliver could have value, even if it was as the poison taster, was good enough. Elias would rather have a dead son than a learned one bent toward the arcane.

“My Lord.” The general bowed.

Behind him was a small retinue of soldiers. They were armored up, and the livery was black and gold. Each one unrecognizable under their fully visored helms. The anonymity helped them due their jobs and kept their families safe. It wasn’t my people that I feared, but assassin’s were resourceful. They could, and would, target a soldier’s loved one and justify it as necessary, even if regretful. Of course, it was all bullshit. I used to be one. Justifying cruel, even evil acts, to accomplish something you deem important was the first step toward villainy.

It also helped that it struck an imposing chord when a contingent of them marched through the streets on parade. They all looked the same. Perfect toy soldiers to move around and perform my bidding. They were people. People with names and lives. People who I was honest with, compensated generously, and never used needlessly. The worst had been weeded out during the first months of my rule. They had grown accustomed to abusing their positions. The illusion of power kept them in line. It took months, and a lot of coin, to get them into line and the work was still not completed, but here in the palace at least they were more subservient.

It would have been great to say that everything I asked of them was good and noble, but you were bound to make someone angry as a ruler. Brandis allowed them to abuse their positions. They raped and pillaged freely and the people were powerless to stop them. I asked them to round up their fellows, stop the occasional loyalist uprising, and, of course, face off against would be assassins.

“We need to increase the round the clock watch on the portal and add some practical defenses. Ballista or oil maybe. What do you think?” I had faced them and much worse in my day. We already had wards in place, but clever invaders were resourceful. They trained their lives to break into homes, kill the residents, abscond with goods, and get lauded as heroes for it.

Elias stared at the portal for a moment. The blue white glow gleamed off his ornate armor. He held his helm under his arm. He was a rugged, aging man with thin, silver hair that was balding, and a constant stubble. Though he always shaved. I didn’t require it, but Elias asserted that appearance was tantamount to respect. There was an element of that I agreed with. The illusion meant a lot. His eyes were almost the same color as the light from the portal. A brilliant, light blue. Oliver had the same striking color. It was almost otherworldly. His eyebrows, also thin and silver, furrowed as he contemplated the problem.

“Well, we could always seal the chamber and only have hidden access to it along with defenses. We could heavily defend the access corridor.”

His voice was low and gravelly. There was little about the man that did suggest masculinity. His posture was erect and rigid, he was built from years of laboring as a blacksmith. I would have felt deeply inadequate had I put any stock in size and muscle, but I knew it was secondary to acumen. Being able to swing a weapon with force was useful, but being able to actually use it took training and skill. Elias had only just begun that journey, and he was older.

There were few better at designing architecture however. It was like some secret talent. He had no skill as a mason. The practical aspects of the trade escaped him, but he had an uncanny ability for design. I had delved into a lot of ruins in my day. A lot of dungeons designed to bamboozle invaders and keep cults, treasures, and secret organizations safe. I had questioned where the maniacal designs came from, and now, that I was the one that needed them, I knew. People like Elias were demented enough to think about the deadliness and obfuscation of architecture.

“A brilliant idea. I will have the stone masons work on it.” I nodded in approval.

“And when they are done, kill them all and let only a few know the access to the chamber.”

Death was extreme, but I couldn’t blame Elias. Brandis was a bastard and worse, he went through loyal people like water. The idea of doing away with loyal workers probably happened a lot in Brandis’ kingdom. Elias had lost plenty of workers after battles were lost and Brandis blamed the equipment. His eldest son was among them. That had been the last straw, anhadmade Elias so amenable to betrayal when I met him.

No, I would magically have their minds scrubbed of the location after they constructed it. Ariadne had done it before and I was very honest with my people. The masons would know they did work, know they were magically scrubbed, and be well compensated for their efforts. Sure, it wasn’t as neat as just erasing the location of the chambers. Nothing could ever be simple, especially where the occult was involved.

The magic would steal the months they had worked the project, but it was better than Elias’ alternative.