Sir Lar

“Magnificent…truly magnificent.” Lord Gilden Lar sat excitedly on horseback surveying the main attraction of a debtor’s labor yard. Three long rectangular structures stood side by side with several hundred teams of oxen roped to them. Draped over the bases of these structures were cured, studded animal hides. The broad side of the structures were covered doors that where embroidered with a metallic fire design. There were large single windows on the thin sides of the structures that faced the expanse of oxen. The tops of these structures glistened as the sun ran over a majestic display of metallic mythological beasts that hang over the sides of the structure, staring menacingly into the distance. At the very peak of the structures was a single small tower that acted as the lookout posts for the structures.

Sir Tolgen Lar rode to the side of his father. He could see that his father was very pleased with his new war machines. “These are only the first of your new land dragons, Father. Many more will come with time, money… and men.” Sir Lar glanced at his father who remained mesmerized at the site of the three magnificent titans. Sir Lar continued, “If you wish to see a greater increase in the number of these machines, I recommend that you encourage King Bartholomew to lift his restrictions on prisoner purchases in the surrounding counties.” Lord Lar snapped out of his day dream as he processed the severity of his son’s request. Sir Lar pressed further, “If you wish to continue production of these mammoths, I will need more brutes to extract the raw materials. I will need more smiths, masons and carpenters to process the metals, stone and wood. I will need more women to toil with the hides as well as act as watering maids on the various labor yards. I need more farmers to provide the additional food necessary to support the oxen. I will need more engineers to meet the level of intricacy that each of these structures require. I will also need…”

“And how do you intend to find that quantity and quality of skilled labor in prison camps. What difference would it make if Bartholomew lifted the prisoner purchasing restrictions?” Gilden Lar interrupted.

“You would be amazed at what kind of people you can find in Debtor’s Prison these days. With the exception of a few supervisors, these land dragons were created solely from very gifted men that I found rotting away in jail.” Sir Lar paused. He turned his head facing his creations. A wide, close-lipped smile spanned his face. “Perhaps a demonstration, Father, would help persuade you to see things the way I see.”

Gilden Lar cocked his head back. He didn’t like his second born, little Tolgen, having any power over him. He didn’t like the way this whole thing was turning out. The construction of the Land Dragons was a secret from Bartholomew. Gilden had no intention of using them against Bartholomew, but he had always kept his dealing in the light. Even Gilden’s shady experimentation with mind affecting chemicals had been reported liberally to Bartholomew. But this was different. These Land Dragons were something that made Gilden feel independently powerful from King Bartholomew. It made him feel like he held some cards of his own. It made him feel above King Bartholomew’s table scraps. Lord Gilden Lar nudged his horse’s sides with his boots. “I hope these Land Dragons are as spectacular in this demonstration as their outer shells let on."