Full Lance & The Holy Roman Empire

by Merallakos

Breakfast with the Bells

It was early.

Too early.

Far too early to be waking up already.

Full Lance was about to slip back into unconsciousness when suddenly---

Clang!

Before Full Lance even knew what was happening, his body contorted, sending him hurtling towards an upright position. Or, it would've, had there not been a hanging manacle rebounding painfully into Full Lance's brow.

"Ehc-gah!" Full Lance shouted as he rolled off his thin bed, clutching his forehead. "Ow. Ow. Owwww." Full Lance slowly rotated his body around, attempting to face what had made the noise that had woken him and subsequently driven his forehead into the hanging iron.

"That works too," remarked a soft voice.

Between the still swinging set of manacles above Full Lance, and the opened door to his left, an attendant mare stood. Her long black mane shifted as she angled her head to appraise Full Lance.

"Who?" Full Lance managed to speak between the throbs of pain.

The attendant brusquely brushed Full Lance's hoof away from his face. After a moment, she prodded Full Lance's pounding forehead. "Do you feel nauseous, dizzy or lightheaded?"

Forehead still throbbing, but bearing recovered, Full Lance frowned, "No, no, and--" Full Lance paused, "who are you?"

The mare shook her head, "No one of consequence," she pronounced this with a slight accent. "You seem to be fine anyway."

Then Full Lance realized, this was the attendant mare from last night. The one who had told Sweetie Bell about her morning meeting. Full Lance vaguely remembered her name was Aalis.

"This is about the conference," Full Lance surmised.

"Oui," said Aalis. "Perhaps you are not as dumb as you look."

"Well," Full Lance stood up, the pain in his head not abated but tolerable. "Take me to where it is that the thing is happening."

The mare held out hoof to stop Full Lance from going any further. "Don't you want to get ready first?"

Full Lance blinked before answering, "No?"

"Good," the mare said, leading the way out of the room, "We don't have time for such a thing."

Full Lance was just about to step out of the chamber when he remembered Thistle. After having lost him twice yesterday, Full Lance turned around and galloped softly to Thistle's sleeping mat.

The attendant mare glared, "What are you doing?"

"Thistle," whispered Full Lance in Thistle's ear. "I'm going to a meeting with Duke Bell. Hopefully I'll be back within an hour or two."

No response.

"Thistle?" Full Lance murmured,

From behind Full Lance the attendant mare rolled her eyes. "Did I not just say we had to leave?"

Full Lance considered leaving a note for Thistle, but--

"Sir?" Full Lance could hear the tired impatience in Aalis' voice.

Full Lance took one last look at Thistle. He seemed to be in fine condition, and after a moment's thought Full Lance realized that chances were that Thistle would sleep through the entire duration of the meeting. Heavens knew that Full Lance would've liked to do the same thing.

Taking a steep inhale, Full Lance turned back to the black maned mare.

"Finally." Aalis turned on a hoof, baggy eyes glaring as she turned into the corridor, heading towards stairs leading to the main floor of the castle. "Follow me."

---

Aalis lead Full Lance up out of the guest wing, and into mainfloor of the keep. From there Full Lance lost track of where they were headed as Aalis lead him through rooms, corridors and servant's passages alike, making for --she told Full Lance-- the north west corner of the keep.

Just as they neared the outer walls of the building, Full Lance could swear he heard a familiar pair of voices. In fact, they sounded just like--

"Full Lance!" a deep, hearty voice called.

"Full Lance?" another, gruffer voice rose. "Why the chances of Full Lance being here are about on par with the chances of 'Finland' actually existing!"

As Full Lance turned a corner he found, indeed, the two large ponies he had suspected he had heard arguing.

The first pony, Ivan, came over and Embraced Full Lance in a sidehug. Despite the fact that Ivan towered an entire head above Full Lance, the hug was neither crunching nor windcrushing.

"Full Lance," Ivan's blue eyes sparkled with patience. "Please would you tell our fine friend that Finland is a real kingdom? Somehow he has gotten convinced that it isn't real."

Full Lance rolled his eyes with practiced ease, heading over to the second, significantly wider pony, Ballast. "Ballast you know Finland is real," Full Lance stared levely at Ballast's mauve face, "You even know it's north east of the Holy Roman Empire." Full Lance waited just enough time for Ballast to prepare a rebuttal before adding, "And anyone who tells you otherwise is lying. Finland exists, it is a proven fact, and Ivan knows better than anyone."

There was a silence. Full Lance dared not hope he had actually managed to convince Ballast so easily, but,

"Pfffttt," Ballast huffed, "I see you haven't changed a bit."

"Well," Full Lance retorted, "You haven't ei--"

"Fascinating," interrupted Aalis, stepping in between the ponies. "The meeting is about to start."

"I suppose there will be plenty of time to argue during the meeting," Ivan trotted towards an unassuming door, opening it.

Full Lance followed Aalis into the room which turned out to be a kind of dining chamber with a fair few ponies standing around a long rectangular table. Both the east and west walls housed a single large window, which allowed a modest amount of snowy predawn aura into the chamber.

The low chatter that occupied the room was cut through as Aalis announced, "Sir Full Lance, Sir Ballast and Master Ivan have arrived!"

From the west head of the table Tirol pumped a hoof, "That's full attendance, Duke!"

Sweetie Bell, standing near the only chair in the room nodded, turned then commanded, "Everyone gather around the table!"

Within the span of a minute, some thirty or so ponies had taken places around the table. From where he stood near Ivan, Full Lance recognized many, if not most of the ponies around the table, including Bernard who'd been managing the market storehouse yesterday. The other portion of ponies that Full Lance didn't recognize all seemed to be fairly young.

Bernard raised an eyebrow at Full Lance, Full Lance merely shrugged nervously. Full Lance was certain he would be getting a piece of Bernard's wrath as soon at the meeting was over.

Sweetie Bell, from the west end of the table with Tirol, cleared her throat over the chatter. As the table quieted slightly, Sweetie Bell began, "We begin the meeting proper shortly. In the meantime, for perhaps the first time in years, everypony is miraculously present before the beginning of the meeting." A round of cheers sprung about the table. Sweetie Bell continued, "For certainly the first time in years, we have all members of The Tolling's guard in attendance!" More cheers, a few ponies --Ivan included-- punched Full Lance appreciatively on the shoulders.

"Ow," Full Lance whimpered silently. Even as he did, he noticed a light blue pony receiving similar treatment. Upon second glance, Full Lance realized the pony was Kasprel, the pony who's existence had been the downfall of a very large bet Full Lance had once made.

"Now," Sweetie Bell continued, "Before we begin, I'd like to informally say--

A ringing, calamitous wave of sound crashed through the confines of the room. Nay, it undoubtedly crashed through the entire castle, and likely spread to the surrounding town, cascading over the city walls and out into the countryside beyond much like a breaker wave might take a coast. Only once its divine might had been fully known did it begin recede.

As its presence diminished Sweetie Bell started again, "Before we begin this meeting, I'd just like to--"

Just then, the sound came again, manifesting now as a colossal DOONNGG

Once more as the ring diminished, Sweetie Bell began, "I'd just like to say--"

DOOONNGG

As sweetie bell vied again for time to speak, Full Lance thought--

DONG

--that this was probably the ringing of--

DONG

--a nearby churchbell, announcing the time.

DONG

"Never mind!" Sweetie Bell audibly screamed over the noise.

With a basso resonance, the ringing slowly faded from the air, then faded from the quivering stones, and finally it receded deep into a sublime vacuum of silence, only marred by the tinnitus of the penitent ponies who had heard the bell.

As the ringing in everypony's ears subsided, Sweetie Bell set a glass of water down on the table. Having recovered her composure, she--

"Hey guys," sparked a stallion in a guard's uniform. "I think it's the prime time to start the meeting now! Amiright?"

"Get it?" continued the stallion, "because it's Prime right now?!"

"Ahem," Sweetie Bell cleared her throat. "Shut up."

The stallion obliged, tilting his head down with appropriate shame.

"And now," Tirol said from beside Sweetie Bell, "the thirty seventh meeting of The Tolling's Guard begins. As you should all know by now, we shall begin with the general reporting, then we'll have Complaints, then Arguments, and finally we'll have a general Briefing. You've already received your welcome, but I believe we don't have the quote of the meeting yet." Tirol turned, "Aalis, would you do the honors?"

"Yes," Aalis glared sleepily as she came and stood beside Sweetie Bell. Glowering at one stallion in particular she said, "It is better to keep your mouth shut and be questionably foolish then to open it and remove all doubt."

From beside Full Lance, Ivan applauded. He was quickly joined by the stamping hooves of the rest of the Tolling's Guard, and a round of jeering. Full Lance noticed that the targeted stallion did not seem shamed, nor angry nor sad. In fact, Full Lance almost thought he looked smugly pleased with himself.

"Enough," Sweetie Bell said, silencing the crowd. "We will start the first report with Sir Ben, then progress towards his right around the table to Gebinus, Kasprel, Sir Nickel, et cetera. Remember, if you haven't managed to make any progress I don't want to hear excuses. Tirol is taking notes and I don't want namby pamby stories stealing valuable space. Begin!"

Not wasting a beat, a black unicorn --Ben-- stood and addressed Sweetie Bell directly. "Knight Ben reporting. The brigands harassing merchants through the County of Rhein have been forcibly settled. It turned out that they were mostly farmers who were displaced by a resurgence of The Black Death. To end their mischief, they were separated and assimilated into surrounding manors courtesy of the local lords.

"Meanwhile the shipments between us and our sister county continue unhindered, though I believe the locals along the route are beginning to become curious. about their veiled nature." Ben stopped, flicking the hair around his horn, and taking a breath for the first time since beginning his speech.

Sweetie Bell Jotted down a couple notes, then called, "Next."

Ben sat back down on the floor, simultaneously a unicorn colt of similar black coloring to Ben stood up.

"Squire Gebinus Reporting," the colt said in a wavering voice. "I can confirm everything Ben said. Also, uh, my training is going well?"

Sweetie Bell nodded, calling "Next," before Gebinus added anything else.

Next it was Kasprel's turn. Full Lance had never gotten to know the pegasus well, as he was almost always gone for one reason or another.

"Kasprel Reporting. Duke Bell, you may be pleased to know that the ponies throughout the duchy continue to be ever polite, and I have been thrown out of absolutely no respectable homes in my journeys."

After a brief pause Kasprel added, "Uh, unfortunately, Pegasi such as I still prove to be just as suspiciously absent as they always have been and everything else is normal too-- Also," Kasprel reached underneath himself and pulled a framed painting from underneath the table. "I made this painting."

"Noted," Sweetie Bell said. "Next."

As the next pony stood and began their report, Full Lance looked around the table. It'd been a few years since Full Lance had been in a meeting, but usually around the time of the third or fifth report ponies would begin to doze. Nowdays however it seemed that ponies preferred to chat.

Full Lance had never been one to be inattentive. Despite this, Full Lance was having trouble piecing together any kind of coherent picture from the various reports. Not only had the number of ponies reporting grown, many were dealing with branching problems Full Lance had never heard of, much less understood. Full Lance decided to direct his attention to his own report instead.

Generally a report was supposed to address any mission, quest or task that Sweetie Bell or anypony else in the hierarchy of the guard had given to you. What's more, it was preferred that the report be short and concise. Reports that needed further elaboration were typically dealt with before or after the meeting, which --Full Lance supposed-- his report already had been.

Within the amount of time it took Full Lance's stomach to reawaken, his turn had come.

"Next," Sweetie Bell cued.

Full Lance's stomach rumbled as he stood. "Knight Full Lance reporting. My manor continues to thrive and grow, mostly without incident. I have taken in a squire, a young unicorn named Thistle Flourish."

Rather than dismiss Full Lance, Sweetie Bell nodded her head. "Full Lance, within your manor what would you say is the average yield of grain?"

The question caught him by surprise and it took Full Lance a spell to recover the figures from his memory. "Uhhh, good? Per wheat seed planted there's usually around seven seeds worth of yield. Barley the same, oats around five or six."

"I see." Sweetie Bell turned to a scrubby looking pony. "Amir, you?"

"About the same," replied the pony, "if not a little higher, Highness."

Sweetie Bell faced a more rotund pony. "Eager, your yield?"

"Since you mandated those new rules, I've been concentrating on wheat. We get around six seeds out for every in."

Sweetie Bell nodded, possibly giving time for the figures to settle. "Bernard?"

"Your highness?" Bernard replied.

"In last year's census, what was the average wheat yield throughout the duchy?"

"Around one planted to five reaped. However as many of you may know, the census was not able to account for all of the duchy. Among other things."

At the mention of "the census" Full Lance noticed a couple ponies around the table shiver.

"Thank you, Bernard," Sweetie Bell said. "Full Lance, Eager, and Amir, you all use the new and Equestrian farming techniques, right?"

"Yes," Amir and Eager said simultaneously.

"Yup," added Full Lance.

"I see," Sweetie Bell nodded. "Everypony take note." Sweetie Bell waited enough time for ponies to begin taking note. "Thank you Full Lance. Next report please..."

---

Aside from the small break from normalicy during Full Lance's report, the meeting progressed uneventfully. During complaints a breakfast of french toast, fruits and vegetables was served. As breakfast progressed complaints quickly and naturally progressed into arguments, which was abruptly ended when Sweetie Bell declared any further discourse intellectually defunct.

Finally, it was time for the briefing. This portion of the meeting usually comprised of Sweetie Bell telling everypony what to do, and then a dismissal. By now, the sun had risen, and through the windows at either end of the hall fresh snow drifts could be seen occupying the castle grounds.

Sweetie Bell took a long drink from a glass cup. After a sigh of relief, she began. "Today's breifing is going to be different from what we usually do. Everypony please remain seated until Kalogreant, Tirol, Aleseta or myself prompts you to follow us."

There was a murmur through the table as the aforementioned ponies abandoned their spots at the table and began tapping ponies on the shoulder, forming trailing groups behind them.

Full Lance had time to appreciate the feeling of a full stomach and watch Aleseta --the pony who'd offered food to Thistle last night-- fumblingly attempt to break through Kalogreant's group to retrieve an older stallion sitting at the table. However, He soon felt Sweetie Bell tap his shoulder and call him into her group.

The group, totaling eight ponies including Amir and Eager from earlier, eventually settled along the west window where the rays of the sun had yet to fully reach.

From his place at the tall window, Full Lance found this dining hall was perched between the edge of the keep and northern castle wall, with a great vantage of the snowy castle yard and stables, but not much else.

Sweetie Bell stood at the center of the window, tapping hoof on the floor to draw her group's attention.

"Okay Amir, Eager, Schmit, Full Lance, Heidi, Erglove and Kindle Spear," Sweetie Bell said, "Over the couple past years, you've all been reaping increased crop yield using the Equestrian techniques and foresights Twilight remembered, plus a multitude of improvements we made using common sense and logic." Sweetie Bell paused to look each pony in the eyes. "Good job. However, now that we know it works, I will need you to start getting everypony else on board."

Sweetie Bell began pacing back and forth, "Over this coming winter it will be your duty --Kindle spear, Schmit, Eager, Amir, Erglove, and Heidi-- to convince, teach and test many manors of the validity, content and maintenance of these techniques so they can use them themselves come Spring. Keep in mind that I do not expect you to totally succeed in overtoppling generations of tradition in the span of a season, but I do expect you to make significant, measurable strides towards our goals."

Sweetie Bell paused to reach inside her robes and pulled out several rolls of paper which she handed to each member of the group. "Those sheets are requisition forms for anything you think you'll need, though I have a feeling you should all be able to provide yourselves without my help. The forms also have an attached list of recommendations that you should read immediately.

"Before I end your briefing, please note I expect you to coordinate with eachother as a team, and begin planning your moves immediately. Does anypony have any questions?"

Full Lance raised a tentative hoof.

"Full Lance?" Sweetie Bell asked.

With a completely straight face, Full Lance asked, "Why?"

"I'm glad you asked," Sweetie Bell pivoted to face the group. "The reasoning is actually on the list of recommendations, but the jist is this: more yield means we can support more ponies with less farmers. Less farmers means that ponydom can have more ponies with more diverse trades such as engineers, artisans, explorers and scholars."

"I see," Full Lance nodded, though he didn't fully grasp the impact of such a possibility.

"I assume it'll also means that we'll have more miscreants, zealots and troublemakers, but," Sweetie Bell shrugged, "we'll deal with those if and when they come."

Eager raised a large fetlock.

"Eager," Bell cued.

"If the changes we propagate are wide spread and successful, what do you expect the impact on the economy will be?"

"Hmm," Sweetie Bell rubbed her chin in thought. "I'm actually not sure. I asked Twilight and she's not entirely sure either. I would need a good economist or merchant to tell me, but I haven't found one yet--" Sweetie bell suddenly turned to address the rest of the group, "Eager still doesn't trust himself to advise me," Sweetie Bell directed a glare towards Eager-- "and the guilds hate me too, so..."

"You have no idea," Amir concluded, rubbing a scruffy beard.

Sweetie Bell shrugged. "I don't expect the economy to collapse or anything, but basically yes."

Eager chuckled. Nervously, the rest of the group joined in as well.

"Hmmm," Eager hmm'd huskilly, "it almost sounds as though you're still attempting to promote a middle class.

"Mm, something like that." Sweetie Bell looked around expectantly, "any other questions?"

The group shook their heads.

"Good. The briefing is over, please do not leave this room until dismissal." As Sweetie Bell walked away from the west window and the group, she beckoned Full Lance over to her.

"I notice you didn't exactly tell me I had to do everything as well," Full Lance trotted side by side with Sweetie Bell.

Sweetie Bell smiled. "Correct," she said as she and Full Lance walked to Captian Kalogreant's group which was comprised of around half of the Tolling's guard. Notably, the older, combative half comprising of Ivan, Bernard, Ballast, Ben, and... a number of others Full Lance failed to recognize or had forgotten.

Full Lance squinted at Sweetie Bell.

Sweetie Bell smiled as she stopped next to Captain Kalogreant, who was lecturing a stallion in a guard's uniform. Full Lance awkwardly stood next to Sweetie Bell and Kalogreant in front of the imposing group.

Kalogreant was one of the first ponies to be added the the Tolling's Guard after its creation. Despite his once newness to the group, he had proven himself an extremely worthy addition almost immediately due to his skill at bossing around large numbers of ponies. At the time Full Lance hadn't seen it, but in that respect, Kalogreant had almost been like a substitution for Galian...

"Captain," Sweetie Bell tapped Kalogreant on the shoulder.

Kalogreant finished his lecture against the stallion --the same stallion who'd cracked a joke from earlier-- using a withering stare that sent any further quips scurrying into a dark corner.

Kalogreant's expression softened measurably as he turned to Sweetie Bell. "Yes, Duke?" he asked.

"Is the breifing finished?" Sweetie Bell raised an eyebrow.

"Well it nearly was, 'till this trouble maker opened his trap." Kalogreant sent another stare the stallion's way. "Is something the matter, Duke?"

"No," Sweetie Bell shook her head, "please continue with the briefing."

Kalogreant stared back at the group. "Now as I was saying, in the traditional way of things, his Honor, the Lord of Altmark is going to round up and train a lot of peasants from his land to fight us with. However, that's not quite what we'll be doing. While he rounds up peasants, you boys'll be rounding up the beginnings of a fully employed, trained army.

"While The Lord of Altmark coerces hapless stallions to train, you will be finding as many suited individuals as possible to train, serve and protect the ponies of our duchy. For pay at that. This will mean you'll have to discern and test any willing to join our cause; I won't stand for any non-motivated or idealogically opposed recruits. In fact, to that end, the Duke has composed a list of rudimentary rules that will guide you in your recruiting. You'll find these rules in the scrolls you just recieved."

Full Lance looked around and found that, indeed, many ponies in attendance had received rolls of paper sealed with pale green wax.

Kalogreant cleared his throat. "As for the recuitment itself, we've divided the duchy in five sections. You all will be forming groups of at least three --not including help you bring along-- to handle each section. Now we’ll be deciding who’s in which groups after questions. Are there any questions?”

Almost immediately a certain member of the royal guard raised his hoof.

Full Lance noticed Kalogreant's eyebrow twitch.

"Tile Sprout?" Kalogreant begrudged.

"How is what we're going to do different from what Altmark is going to do? We're both gathering peasants to battle with us. So what if they’re payed? Also, what’s even the big deal?"

Before Kalogreant mustered an answer, Sweetie Bell stepped forward. "Currently the only form of long term standing military my duchy has are the land holders who are indentured to serve me because I'm The Duke --that's all of you basically-- and the new Royal Guard, and maybe some mercenaries if things get really desperate.

"The difference in what we're doing is that I’m creating a clear division the military and the peasantry. What’s more I expect the military we’re creating to function smoother and more effectively than Altmark’s can.

“Does that answer your question, Tile Sprout?”

Tile Sprout nodded.

Ben stepped forward from the group of knights.

“Ben?” Kalogreant cued.

"We are sorting ourselves out into groups?" Ben asked.

"Yes," Sweetie Bell answered. "I will be supervising, but I would recommend you think carefully about who you are in a group with, and which section of the duchy your group is assigned to. I do not expect any one group will be able to handle this task without extra help."

From the back of the group, Ballast cleared his throat. "So uh, when do we start?"

Kalogreant cleared his throat in turn. "As soon as there are no more questions you can get to grouping. I already told you we don't actually start recruiting 'till November. "

Next to Ballast, Ivan asked, "So effectively our mission is simply to round up new soldiers, correct?"

"Yes," Sweetie Bell nodded patiently.

"Could you not simply," Ivan flipped his hoof back and forth in the air, "decree that all manors send forth recruits based on the rules you have already supplied us?"

"I could," Sweetie Bell affirmed, "but that's exactly what we would've done before. Why I'm having you do this is because I want you --members of the Tolling's Guard-- to hoof pick recruits. No one in this duchy knows battle and fighting as well as you do, and I expect you to be able to distinguish ponies who are ready for it."

"Ah, I see," Ivan looked around at the group.

"Any other questions?" Kalogreant asked.

A round of shaken heads.

"Alright," Kalogreant coughed. "Pick you groups! Remember, every group must have at least three members, and every region of the duchy must be accounted for!"

A squabble broke out fairly quickly as ponies tried to decide whether region, skills, holdings, or friendship should be the determining factor in who was in what group.

As this was happening, Sweetie Bell drew Full Lance aside yet again. She held a stack of papers in one hoof, and a scroll of paper in the other.

Full Lance pursed his lips. "So do I just not get a mission, orrr?"

Sweetie Bell snickered. “I just figured, since it’s your first mission in a long time, you should have a choice in what to do.”

Sweetie Bell raised the stack of papers slightly. “You can go teach ponies how to farm, or,” she lifted the scroll, “you can go find ponies to become part of our military.”

“Ah, I see...” Full Lance scratched his chin.

Author's Note:

And that's your cue! What do you think Full Lance should do?

Also, here is the April Fools' chapter.