Survivor: Definitely Not Minecraft

The council chamber was spectacular. Marble pillars supported a high vaulted ceiling that looked like it was trying to give the Sistine Chapel a run for its money. Instead of being painted with religious scenes, however, the ceiling was decorated with what had to be Kevin’s work. It was a mosaic of Nargul itself, the city as it would look from above completed with astonishing detail, a work of art on a grander scale than anything I’d ever attempted. The tapestries adorning the walls were a letdown in comparison.

There were a dozen aristocrats gathering around a square obsidian table that had all the hallmarks of having been crafted by someone like me. There was no way to have gotten something like that in through the doors, a huge, seamless product of jet-black stone. It made me wonder how much time my predecessor had spent here in conversation with the rulers of the city. While the Eternal Engine had been a more recent passion project, this hall could have been around for centuries, and Kevin might have sat at the table with the ancestors of the men here now.

They chatted amongst themselves. I’d come in full armor, with Esmelda, Boffin, and Berith behind me, and the conversation cut off instantly at our appearance.

"Dark Lord, so good of you to come." Count Varnish greeted me, rising from his seat at one end of the square table. The Lucius Malfoy look-alike wasn’t wearing his cape, but he was dressed in an expertly fitted Victorian-era suit — all that was missing was the cane. The other council members followed his example, getting to their feet, some of them bowing.

.

"Count Varnish," I said, picking out the chairs that had been left empty nearest the door. I pulled one back for Esmelda, and she accepted it primly. I sat down beside her, and Boffin took the chair on my left, while Berith remained standing behind us, glowering at the assembly. “Thank you for the invitation. “Am I interrupting anything?”

“No, my lord, we were just about to begin.” He inclined his head. “With your leave.”

“Please,” I said. “Go on.” Boffin handed me a journal which I opened to the first page. Berith had called on a military adjunct to give us some basic information about the council members. The woman had seemed bemused by the request, but as Berith himself was new to the city, it wasn’t that odd for him to be gathering information. I’d copied the notes down in lillant, which I doubted any of the nobles could read even if they could see the book from where they were sitting.

While Nargul’s council was filled out by twelve members, mostly old men, there were only three who mattered. Count Keldorn was a bald man with amber skin who looked like he had a permanent case of sunburn, which was impressive considering how little sun made it through the clouds. He was closely associated with the military elements of the city aside from being the head of the Smith’s Guild.

Viscount Fenral didn’t have a trade, but his family was among the oldest in Nargul and peddled influence across the city. He was the youngest man there, short, and pale, and he looked like he was actively trying to appear bored. Varnish led the council, and according to the adjunct, nearly his entire fortune was tied to the slave market.

"My esteemed colleagues," Varnish said, "I think we can all agree that today is a momentous occasion. Not only has our Dark Lord graced us with his presence, but he has also recently taken a bride. Please join me in congratulating him on his marriage." There was a smattering of polite applause around the table, purely reflexive, as the faces of the nobles each took on a different shade of shock. Some of them paled, while others reddened, embarrassed by the failure of whatever information networks they relied on. Keldorn sat back in his seat like he had been struck.

“A thousand blessings,” he said, his face slack.

Varnish took obvious pleasure in having known something the others did not. “Allow me to introduce the new Dark Lady of Dargoth,” he said, gesturing to Esmelda.

A look of understanding dawned on a few of their faces. Like Varnish, they would have wondered why their Dark Lord’s attitude toward the lillits had changed so drastically, and an explanation was now in front of them.

"Dark Lady," Varnish continued. "We are honored beyond words to have you among us."

The rest of the nobles were soon speaking over each other to offer their congratulations and praise. Esmelda sat through it wearing a blank expression, nodding regally to those who addressed her. She said nothing. Her opinion of these men and the way they ran the city was not positive.

"Very well, let us commence," Count Varnish declared, joining his hands and indicating for the council assembly to start. "I believe we are all cognizant of the fact that council gatherings might be,” he paused, choosing his words carefully, "tedious for an individual of the Dark Lord's stature." He then directed his gaze toward me, offering a deferential nod. "Is there a particular matter you wish us to discuss, my lord?"

“How considerate,” I said. “There are two issues that I want to see addressed today. The role that the lillits will play in the city going forward needs to be made clear. Apart from that, there are going to be some changes in policy regarding the institution of indentured servitude.”

"Of course," Varnish said, “we are all aware that the lillits are now in your favor, and we will be happy to oblige whatever plan you have for the little folk. I’m sure places can be found for them among the existing guilds, as you desire. My understanding is that the Duke already secured their

Housing-”

“And I am happy to house them,” a woman said. “But I have been curious as to what will become of my rents.” She had bronze skin and a head of wavy gray hair. I glanced at my notes; Serin, another viscount. Dargoth operated under a feudal system similar to the Free Kingdoms. All land ultimately belonged to the Dark Lord, but countless titles had been given out over the years to the families that administered it. Berith was Duke of the city, but various chunks of Nargul, as well as the surrounding lands, were under the control of counts and viscounts. I hadn’t bothered trying to research who owned what, as the details were both complicated and irrelevant. If Serin owned the tenements where the lillits were staying, she was going to want money.

“Which will be addressed in due time,” Varnish said, casting a venomous glance at the woman. “As to the matter of indenture, may I ask what you have in mind?”

“We’ll get to that,” I said.

Count Keldorn leaned forward, genuinely interested. "As you say, my lord. Where would you like to begin?”

I turned to him. “It is my understanding that there are still some lillits serving among the noble households. We have the sales records, and my viziers are going to sort through them soon, but I expect cooperation from all of you before that. The lillits are no longer to be kept in servitude, not any of them, for any reason.”

The council members exchanged glances, some looking alarmed, others merely puzzled. Varnish was in the former category.

“Those that are among your households,” I addressed the room, “are to immediately be released to their community. I expect this to be done before the end of the day. Consider this a decree. Any failure to comply will be dealt with as a crime against Mount Doom.”

Varnish cleared his throat. "Your Grace," he began, his voice dripping with diplomatic grease, "perhaps I misunderstand, those lillits who are currently serving in noble households were purchased lawfully."

“If the records of those sales are in order,” I said, “you will have compensation for your loss.”

I felt Esmelda stiffen beside me. We’d already discussed this, and she was not happy with the idea of me paying for the release of men, women, and children who were stolen from their homes and taken into bondage. ‘Evil must not be rewarded with profit,’ she had said, which I was relatively sure was a quote from the Shui. But Boffin had understood the necessity. We wanted to make things better in Nargul, and simply lopping off the heads of the entire aristocracy would not be a good way to ensure a peaceful city.

Varnish was hovering on the verge of argument, but he seized on the idea of compensation. "Your Grace," he said, "might I inquire about the specifics of these payments? The market is ever-shifting, and many servants accrue value as they acquire skill and experience. Speaking for myself, I can assure you that I am more than happy to comply. As to the price, my assessors can have an estimate drawn up by the morning. May I assume that the Duke will be handling the details?”

“No,” Berith growled, “you can’t.” Varnish blanched at the response.

“My viziers will be handling the payments,” I said. “And you don’t have to bother with an assessment. They’ll ensure the compensation is fair, but this isn’t a negotiation.”

The room waited for Varnish’s response. Everyone except Fenral, who had slid down in his chair with a sour look on his face. “Doesn’t matter what we think, does it? The Dark Lord has spoken.”

Varnish clenched his jaw. "Of course, Your Grace. I trust in your wisdom, and that of your viziers."

We hadn’t even gotten to the controversial part yet. “As for the slave market in general,” I said, “it’s finished.” Varnish started sputtering a protest, but I spoke over him. “The system of criminal fines and indenture is still in place, but Dargoth will no longer be selling the contracts of those who are taken into custody.” The justice system in Nargul was nothing more than a pipeline into slavery. People who committed crimes, anything from petty theft to murder, were swiftly tried and assigned a fine as punishment.

The trial system was a joke. A defendant went before a magistrate and had to make an impromptu argument against whatever the accuser said. Witnesses could be called, but it was a lot easier to get witnesses when you weren’t the one in jail, and hardly anyone who couldn’t afford a few bribes was ever found not guilty. The entire process, from arrest to sentencing, rarely took more than a few days, and anyone who couldn’t pay the resulting fine was kept in custody. The government, my government, held the contracts, and the prisoners would shortly thereafter be sent to work off their debt in the mines or wherever else there was a need for fresh bodies.

Depending on the case, the contract might be awarded to the plaintiff if there were significant damages involved, but otherwise, it could be bought and sold. On paper, someone indentured this way could earn their way out of the contract, but in practice, it was just slavery. Whoever held the contract could charge what they wanted for room and board and whatever else, adding to the total debt, so that the fine was never repaid.

Keldorn, whose wealth and status were not on the line, looked intrigued. “May I ask the reason for the change?”

“Dargoth is at war,” I said. “Criminals will now be drafted into the army. They will be trained as soldiers, paid and cared for as any volunteer would be, and when they earn enough to clear their debts, they will be given the option to leave the service or remain as they choose.”

It was, in essence, the same process as before, but with everyone being funneled into the army. This way, we could at least make sure that they were treated fairly and had a chance at freedom once they had done their time. This didn’t fix the justice system, and it was still basically slavery, but that’s how things had worked back on Earth as well. Not everyone realized it, but the United States Constitution explicitly condoned slavery in the case of prisoners, the clause was written into the 13th Amendment. They could be forced into labor, either for no wages or comically small wages, depending on how individual states decided to run things. It kind of had to work that way, because imprisonment by its nature strips an individual of their otherwise inalienable rights. Without that clause, there would have been a strong legal argument to be made that arrest and imprisonment themselves were illegal, and crime and punishment had to be handled somehow.

While I had plenty of complaints about how the justice system of my homeworld worked, I’d been locked up long enough to know better than most that you couldn’t just throw it out the window.

In the silence that followed, Count Varnish could be heard grinding his teeth.

“So that’s how things will be handled from now on,” Fenral said, “what about the contracts we already have? Are you saying we don’t have a right to sell our property?”

“Good question,” I said. “The answer is yes, you do have a right to sell those contracts. They can and will be sold to me. All of them. I understand that the logistics involved are complicated, and this part isn’t going to happen overnight. Again, my viziers are going to be handling the numbers. But I expect all existing contracts to be returned to Dargoth by the end of the next three months.”

It was an arbitrary period, but there had to be a deadline of some kind, or else it would never happen.

"Your Grace," Count Varnish said finally, "are you quite certain about this? It is a...radical departure from tradition."

"Forgive me for saying so," Keldorn said cautiously, his amber-skinned fingers unconsciously moving across the obsidian before him as if he was working out the relevant figures, "but even the wealth of Mount Doom is not without its limits. Will the new laws apply only to Nargul or all of Dargoth? The total value of my contracts is not so great in comparison to some, but if you intend to buy back every one of them, you will be flooding the city with gold.”

He was a smart man. I didn’t know yet how much money we were talking about, but I was probably going to end up devaluing Dargoth’s currency in the process of doing all these buybacks, not to mention ruin the market for gems. But the effects of inflation wouldn’t be felt until after the payments were made, so I didn’t have to care about them right now. I had a practically infinite supply of diamonds at my disposal, and the nobles could be as upset as they liked about the results, but they didn’t have a choice about whether or not to accept my terms. It was a perk of being at the top of a totalitarian society.

Given that the Dark Lord was an immortal god-king backed by a host of demons, there wasn’t much they could do about it other than complain.

“My decision has been made,” I said. “Do any of you intend to challenge me?”

Varnish looked like he wanted to, but he had the presence of mind to at least pretend to go along with the program. "Never, your grace," he said, keeping his voice neutral. "We would not think of it. We will comply with your wishes. Please forgive me for my reticence, I was merely surprised. You seem almost to be a different person from when we last met." He paused, letting his words sink in, and I saw it in his eyes. He knew. But what was he going to do with that knowledge? "Perhaps marriage can change any man."

I let the comment go.

“The official proclamation will be drawn up when I return to Mount Doom,” I said, “but the changes in law are effective immediately. Returning to the subject of the lillits, they will be founding their own guild here in the city, equal to the others already in existence. Let me introduce you to the newest member of your council, Count Boffin.”

Boffin rose, his silver hair shining under the torches, unperturbed by the unhappy gazes that then fell upon him.

"Good day, honorable members of the council," Boffin said. "I look forward to working closely with all of you for the betterment of our kingdom."

There were murmured greetings in response. Of all the announcements I had made, the mere grant of a noble title was a minor note. Boffin was going to have his hands full, but with Berith backing him, I wasn’t concerned for his safety. After this meeting, it had to be clear to everyone involved that the lillits were under my protection. They were going to make his life hard, but they weren’t going to try to kill him.

None of this was a final solution, but there was a war in the North and another brewing in the East. Managing an empire requires delegation. There were things I had to do myself, and overhauling the legal system was not one of them.

“I’m sure you all have other business to address,” I said, standing. “And I won’t delay you any further.” I glanced at Boffin.

“Are you going to be alright here?”

He nodded, a slight smile creasing the lines around his mouth. “Mayor or Count,” he said, “I imagine it’s much the same.”

I extended my hand to Esmelda and she took it. We left the chamber together.