Warhammer Divine Throne

PS: Thank you to the reader ”ndjlcyx” for the generous rewards, much appreciated!

Spring, April, in the night of Gene Town, a young man carrying a piece of pork and a bottle of ale knocked on a large wooden door: ”Mama, I’m back.”

”Remon, is that you?” His elderly mother, dressed in furs, opened the door.

This was a massive wooden building, divided into many small rooms. Escaped serfs were housed here, and when they had nowhere to live, they could stay in this huge wooden house by paying the count a small rent.

The escaped serfs did not consider this place a home; they hoped more to build their own house in the village or even buy one in the town.

”Mama, I’m back.” The spring night was as cold as water; a gust of cold wind blew into the house. Remon appeared with a tired face. Though weary, the young man seemed in good spirits: ”I’m exhausted.”

”Brother~ Brother~” His younger brother, Thomas, came running out of the room. The boy was still quite thin, but his complexion had improved significantly. The child drooled as he saw the piece of pork that Remon was holding.

”Oh Remon! Why did you buy so much meat?” His elderly mother immediately complained: ”We’ve barely managed to find our footing here, you only earn ten copper coins a day, wouldn’t it be better to save it?”

Remon smiled as he walked into the room. It had a very clean wooden floor, and a fire was burning in the middle, maintaining a peaceful and harmonious atmosphere inside.

”It’s not much, just about forty copper coins for a pound of pork, Mama.” Remon handed the pork to his mother, the young serf laughed and said: ”It’s been more than a month since I started working here, I think it’s time we had some meat.”

”Oh, if your father knew you were spending money like this, he would hang you up and give you a good thrashing!” His elderly mother said anxiously, clearly quite worried about her son spending money on a pound of pork.

Soon, the aroma of pork soup was wafting through the room. His mother cut the pork into small pieces with a knife, added some salt, and put it into the simmering soup. The smell of the pork filled the room; this piece of pork cost Remon four days of wages, but for a serf, this was already a miracle.

Yet this wasn’t uncommon in Count Glamorgan’s domain. After five years of development, serfs occasionally could eat meat, and the Free People’s tables were even more abundant.

”The cheapest meat at the market is rabbit and some game birds, some going for as low as twenty copper coins a pound.” Remon put down his tools and sat on a wooden chair at home.

Remon was recruited to work at the Dwarf Carpenter Workshop in the public office, working ten hours a day with a daily wage of twelve copper coins, settled weekly, with Sundays off. Every ten days, they had one or two days off, or not at all if they so chose.

Remon chose not to take any breaks, or perhaps for him, he wouldn’t know what to do with a day off anyway.

Rabbit and game bird meats were familiar to serfs, as these were the only meats they could eat regularly. Rabbits and birds were great threats to crops, so the lord allowed serfs to hunt and eat these animals.

His elderly mother took on some sewing work in the town, and by the end of the week could earn thirty to forty copper coins, vastly improving the family’s quality of life. They were now full of hope for the future, with Remon determined to earn more money, somehow build a house, and escape their current precarious living situation.

In the quiet room, the family shared bowls of black bread and pork soup, harmonious and joyful. Thomas drooled, ”Mama, I want some meat~”

”Alright, alright~” His mother lovingly used a large wooden spoon to serve a bowl of meat soup, then picked out a big piece of fatty meat and put it into Thomas’s bowl.

Poor people tend to enjoy eating fatty meat.

Children are often oblivious to many things; Thomas chewed the fatty pork in small bites, his eyes narrowing with happiness, while Remon enjoyed the meat soup and black bread soaked in it, sipping a cup of ale. He had brought the ale from a small tavern in town for just a few copper coins.

The Empire was famous for brewing dark beers and various malt liquors, their beers and ales were renowned globally and widely consumed in the Old World. Except for the Avey Province’s wines, other wines were considered too sour and difficult to swallow.

”This wine must have been made by Imperial people.”

— A Brittania joke, implying this type of wine is disgusting and hard to swallow.

Brittania was well known for producing a variety of wines, especially the wines from Winford and Boldro, which were renowned worldwide, forming important parts of great noble dining tables, whereas their brewed ale and beer were considered sharp and bitter with a sour tinge.

”Now I know this must be ale from Brittania.”

— An Imperial joke, suggesting this ale is undrinkable.

Barley beer foamed as it was poured, being the cheapest type of ale, often carrying a thick taste of wood chips and barley residue. This ale was the kind serfs could drink regularly; many serfs’ favorite pastime was going to a tavern for a cup of ale after finishing tasks for their lord. His elderly mother looked at Remon with a sigh as he frowned while drinking the ale: ”Remon, I feel like I’m dreaming, I hope this dream never ends.”