Interlude 13. Clicking Klaus

Interlude 13. Clicking Klaus

Sighing, Klaus set aside the latest sheaf of documents and sighed. As much as he hated to concede the ground, he had to admit he's been solidly outmaneuvered out there. For now, at least until the roads are finished, lady Gillespie was completely untouchable. Of course, he still intended to pilfer every last secret she'd let slip, but insofar as rough tactics were concerned, he was explicitly ordered to maintain a strictly hands-off approach. Worse yet, the latest actions had completely fudged his expectations. Who in their right mind would just give a whole strategic reserve worth of weaponry as a gift!? Good grief, he and Alphonse had expected maybe a sword or two as a personal present to the king, not five crates of ripple steel. Worse yet, the provided pieces were spearheads and arrowheads. As in, the exact stuff one would want if they intended to seriously bolster the defenses, as opposed to expected baubles. The whole royal blacksmith was in an uproar - every single craftsman had been called in to put the proffered bits on the proper hafts and arrowshafts. Forget the castle, the whole Berlinger had been scoured for experienced fletchers to turn the arrowheads into readiness.

As of nine o'clock this evening, Kraut kingdom was in possession of a trump to pretty much any force one could possibly send against them, up and including Sultanate dragons! If needs be, they could arm the entirety of the royal garrison with ripple steel! Unbelievable. Such profligate wealth. And all it did was inspire a cold dread in Klaus - if Champagne felt confident to gift that much to Kraut, how much of a reserve did THEY had? Enough to field an army armed with ripple steel? Klaus had nightmares about Champagne knights clad in ripple steel chainmail just ripping through the Kraut defenses like wet paper.

Pouring himself a glass of schnapps, Klaus threw it back and growled. He needed new... insights. Damn it, why not? Putting his hand on a potted dandelion, he ran himself through the scrying spell, wondering what kind of oddment he would procure this time. What thunked on his table was... a cookie. A simple cookie, if one were to disregard the fact it was encrusted with some sort of brown-blackish chunks. The detection spell told him nothing. The cookie was not poisonous, the chunks were merely a thick cream made out of some tree fruit he was not familiar with, and there was no magic about that cookie. At all. A full hour later, frustrated Klaus gave up. Staring at the cookie balefully for a moment, he picked it up, stuffed it into his mouth, and chewed resolutely.

Oh gods what!!? The taste that blasted his mouth was rich, sweet and entirely unfamiliar. But ever so heady and energetic that Klaus sat up straight abruptly, his tongue swishing in his mouth as he swallowed every single crumb that still remained there. So. Much. Energy! Such vigor! Oh gods, THAT must be the secret weapon Gillespie was holding back! The alchemical treats that destroyed fatigue! Gods and stars, he needed that secret NOW! Grabbing the fresh sheet of paper, Klaus started to jot things down. New orders to his spies had to be made. At all costs, they were to procure more samples of this wondrous treat. If Kraut alchemists could divine the cream's exact ingredients, why... His whole department could abolish the very idea of sleep with such a wonderful remedy. No wonders Gillespie run circles around him and his, the darn witch had no need to sleep if she had such a remedy! And Klaus would be damned if he could not secure more of that for himself and his underlings. This was of paramount, national importance! Cookies!