We returned to the mansion and the Workers lined up shoulder to shoulder in the foyer. I stood with bob in front of them, a smug sense of well-deserved superiority plain on my face.
Bob was still shaken up from the proximity of so many Assassins, he seemed out of it.
The Workers were even more shaken up and panicky.
Xeres bit her bottom lip as she looked around. “I-it’s so dirty?! Who was in charge of cleaning this place, they did an awful job!”
Gebbi tried to breathe deeply to steady herself, but it didn’t work. “This… is disgusting.”
“No wonder they need Worker muscle and grit.”
“What they need is to demolish this place and rebuild it, preferably underground.”
“Ribbee, weren’t you in charge of cleaning this place for the last week?”
“Yeah,” I said, “but I didn’t do a whole lot.”
“I guess that makes sense, you being a Soldier an’ all.”
“Just a week? Filth like this doesn’t accumulate over just a week.”
Bob sighed, “it’s not that dirty…”
That caught him a few insults from the Workers. Just because he’s used to living in squalor doesn’t mean the rest of us are.
But before long, the lady of the house came down the stairs once more. She wore an elegant dress that dragged behind her on the carpet, beautiful jewelry hanging off her horns, and she kept her chin high to denote her high-class status.
“So, Ribbee. These are the Workers you’ve brought me?”
“Yup.” I said with a nod.
She turned her head slowly, eying each sister up and down. “Can any of you cook?”
I raised an eyebrow, “uh, I can-“
“No, shut up!” Xeres yelled.
Gebbi crossed her arms. “That one must be banned from the kitchen if you want us to do our jobs.
“Wha-what are you girls talking about?” I said, hurt. “I’m a great cook!”
“I can cook.” Xeres and Gebbi spoke in unison, then shot each other a glare.
“Good.” The lady said. “Then you two shall be in charge of preparing the meals. When not cooking, you’ll work with the others to keep my estate in good order. Each room inside, and the grounds outside. Bob, get them their collars, and their uniforms.”
“Yes ma’am.” Bob turned to us and gestured for us to follow.
He led us through the mansion, and it was a long process. Every few feet, one of my sisters found something to criticize, and the problem was far more than just a bit of dust or grime.
“This ceiling is too tall. A lot of wasted space.”
“What’s with this picture? Depicting human-things? Gross.”
“This vase has a poor design. It should be blue and white, to match the carpet.”
“This entire wall is pointless and should be knocked down.”
By the time we got to the staff room, bob threw open the door, “just get inside and be quiet! Pick a bed, it’s yours!” In his hand, he had a dozen black and white uniforms, and he gave one to each sister as they passed. They weren’t intimidated by his little outburst, of course. They’re Workers, and therefore had Master’s divine protection. Why be worried?
They’re not like me, a girl who puts her life on the line every day, braving the harshest human horrors the galaxy has ever spewed forth.
So my sisters went into the room, changed into their uniforms, and claimed beds for their own. I kept an eye out to make sure nobody disturbed my space, and thankfully, nobody did. They did strip the blankets from other beds, however, and create makeshift curtains to keep their privacy.
When each sister left the room, bob stopped them and attached the stylish metal collar to their necks. I think it’s cute and really completes the uniform. One of those rare human ideas that are actually good. We showed off the collars to each other, letting them jingle back and forth, and they clung together whenever we hugged.
But from there, bob gave the girls a tour of the place.
I tagged along too, despite knowing the layout as well.
When my sisters saw each room, they threw their hands up, put a halt to the tour, and went to town on the dirt immediately. It was a sight to behold. They used their wings to flutter to higher spots, they coordinated to lift furniture and sweep the undersides, not an inch was left in squalor. Unlike me, they also made sure to put the dust in bags to get rid of it, rather than do what I did and pointlessly mix the dust with the air. They did excellent work, bob was impressed.
“So what’s the point of you now?” He asked.
“I… I got you all these Workers.”
Xeres came and pushed us to the side so she could wipe beneath us.
“Okay, and now that we have those Workers, why bother keeping you around?”
“…supervision? Cause Workers shouldn’t leave the den by themselves since it’s unsafe?”
Bob raised an eyebrow, “and you’re supposed to keep them safe? You’re the one who enslaved them!”
“You keep using that word and I don’t know what it means!”
Gebbi walked up, her arms respectfully behind her back, and she held her head high to proudly show off her knowledge. “It means the act of turning someone into a slave. Enslave.”
“Okay,” I crossed my arms, “but what is a slave?”
“…” Without losing that proud, smug look, she walked away and returned to her cleaning.
Know-nothing Worker…
Anyway, the Workers cleaned the mansion room by room, then Xeres and Gebbi disappeared into the kitchen, only to emerge an hour later with a proper feast on their hands. A lot of soups and sandwiches, dishes arranged for their looks just as much as their taste, and it was all incredible. The lady of the mansion finally got to eat a traditional Slavani dish, and she said it was well worth the wait and money she spent. I still think my cooking was top quality, but nobody would let me into the kitchen to compare our skills.
The next few weeks ran like a well-coordinated effort between us all.
The Workers spent their time maintaining and improving the mansion. They cleaned until each room seemed to sparkle, they polished windows and glass until they were nearly invisible, and they polished wood floors to a near-mirror finish. The foliage outside was trimmed to perfection, and they even used local materials to synthesize their own paint! The outside of the mansion, and each room on the inside, was made to look brand new. The lady of the house couldn’t argue with the results, she was blown away.
I wasn’t just sitting around during this. After a about a week, Xeres and Gebbi were getting overwhelmed with the amount of work, and sometimes forgot that they also had their duties in the kitchen. After food ran late a few times, bob and I traveled back to the den to collect another group of Workers who could stock the kitchen full time.
Then, the next day, one of the original Workers came up to me.
“Ribbee! Ribbee! It’s awful!” She said while hugging me, tears in her eyes as our metal collars clinked together.
“Oh no, sis, what’s wrong?” I supportively patted her shoulder.
“I’ve discovered a problem with the central staircase, but everyone is so busy with their own things that they don’t wanna help me!”
“What’s wrong with it?” I said with a raised eyebrow.
She took me by the hand and led me to the foyer, then showed me a display board with a complex set of mathematical equations, with rulers and protractors. She spouted off a lot I didn’t understand, but gave a summary at the end, “-all this is to say that this staircase is un-optimal. The steps are too shallow, the angle isn’t steep enough, and there’s too many steps. Based on the size of Master’s feet, and Her height, If Master decided to visit us, She would mathematically hate trying to get to the second floor!”
A jolt of fear ran through my heart at her words, I instantly understood the seriousness of her desire to fix the staircase. “And the other Workers aren’t helping you?”
“They keep saying my math is off, but I’ve checked it at least twice… could you go to the den and pick up a few more Workers to help me?”
I put a hand on her shoulder and gave the girl a thumbs up, “of course!”
And so bob and I went to the den, grabbed more Workers, and brought them back. They all demolished and rebuilt the staircase in an afternoon to be more Master-friendly. After that, those Workers went on to similar constructions projects around the mansion, making minute, yet vital, improvements to the structure of the estate.
A few days later, similar story. A Worker was disappointed with quality of the gardens outside, so bob and I went out to collect some more Workers who could maintain it full time.
A few more days passed, and the number of Slavani on the estate was around 40. The kitchen staff told me this was taking a huge tole on the food supply, so they had me collect a mixture of Workers and Soldiers. Their job would be to travel to a nearby human town and buy food to keep up with our numbers. So bob and I returned to the den and did just that. The first few times, bob needed to travel with the caravan to show them how to use money, but my sisters figured out how to do their job before long.
At this point, Workers started showing up at the door of the mansion, saying they heard this was a place full of fun and adventure, and they wanted to join. Because more Slavani equals more fun and more adventure, and I knew where the uniforms and iron collars were, I accepted them all with open arms, and our numbers swelled even further.
Sadly, the staff room was full around now, which meant we could not accept any further recruits… so, I went to the den with bob and got some Workers who could dig more staff rooms under the mansion. Very simple fix, and we Slavani are naturals at digging tunnels so there was no issue of the mansion collapsing.
It was around now, a little more than a month after my initial recruitment to the mansion, that the lady’s estate was bustling with activity. No matter where you looked, you could always find some sisters working on a project or two. It felt like back home in the den.
But then, the lady of the mansion called me into her office.
Her office featured a large desk full of papers, a chair far too big for her to fill, and a full-wall, pane glass window behind her that overlooked the backyard. In the chair with her were two Slavani, they had their arms wrapped around the lady and were purring with pleased, content smiles on their faces. They both came from a specific batch of sisters meant to cure insomnia, which is a common problem among Casters. Their purrs were set at a certain frequency which calmed listeners down and made sleeping easier. Also at her side was another sister who was pouring the lady tea.
“Hello again, Ribbee.”
“Hello.”
“I see you and bob have been quite busy, filling my estate with more of your sisters.”
“Yes.” I said with a nod, “though a lot of them started coming on their own.”
“Yet those new arrivals were nevertheless accepted by you.”
“Yes.” I nodded.
“I see.” She shuffled through some papers on the table, and the two sleepy sisters shifted in place, nuzzling against her sides. Carefully, the lady grabbed one specific piece of paper and handled it to me. “That’s the food budget for my estate. I’ve done my best to convey the problem.”
It was a line graph. On the left side, the line was low and there was a smiley face. On the right side, the line was high, and there was a frowny face.
“I… you’re saying that as we’ve introduced more Slavani to the estate, the cost to feed them has grown so high that it’s unfeasible to keep so much staff here. Because this estate doesn’t have its own farms or ranches, you have to barter your limited resources with the nearby human town, which is cutting into the funds you’re using to finance other projects that were meant to drag your estate out of its impoverished condition?”
She nodded, “yes.” She put her hand out and I gave her the paper back. “This is a critical issue. I trust you can fix it?”
“Of course!” I saluted.
The answer, of course, like everything, was to return to the den and collect more Slavani for the estate. So, over the course of the next month, that’s what I did.
The problem was one of resources, or more specifically, the lack thereof. The lady didn’t have enough resources to barter for food for us all, so we needed to increase resource production in order to barter for more food.
Let’s see: I got more Workers and Soldiers for trade caravans.
I got a small tribe of Assassins who could hunt the nearby forests. The food they caught would help feed us, and the pelts they collected could be sold.
I gathered a group of Workers who could turn metal into various items to be sold. There was no place to put their forges above ground. So we expanded the pseudo-den below ground and set the Workers up there.
We set up an herb farm down in the den too, so my sisters could craft and sell various potions and drinks to the humans. Also, the chemists down there could make dyes for a group of weavers I borrowed from the den.
Those weavers collected plant fibers from the nearby gardens and forests, then weaved them into beautiful tapestries which could be sold to the humans.
Around now was when I collected a second tribe of Assassins. Their job was to head into human lands to be bounty hunters. So, Master, sometimes humans commit crimes against each other, and then ‘bounty hunting humans’ can hunt those ‘criminal humans’ down for a reward. This Assassin tribe’s job was to hunt those criminal humans, collect the reward from the human kingdom, and then give the reward to the lady’s estate.
And, of course, with all these additions to the estate, the facilities below the mansion had to be expanded. More bedrooms, more kitchens, more lounge space. It would not be incorrect to say that, at this point, there were more sisters working below ground than there was above ground.
But oh well. It took a while for everything to be set up, but once it was, the lady of the mansion praised me for introducing ‘a huge flow of capital’ into her estate. She said that with a smile, so I assume it was good.
However! So many sisters, well over two hundred at this point, living in close proximity is bound to lead to certain… ‘issues’.
Rivalries, aimlessness, rampant mischief. It wasn’t rare to see sisters just sitting around the estate, waiting for someone to invite them to a project. Rooms would be given a fresh coat of paint every day, switching colors back and forth as two or more groups of Slavani had different ideas on what color would be best. Theft of food was also an issue, as were pranks. Assassins did the worst pranks, as they would often involve hiding your items somewhere, and then the Assassins would act insulted that you would dare insinuate they played such childish games.
Aimlessness was the biggest issue, I think. For the sisters I specifically recruited to do certain tasks, like cleaning the mansion, or cooking, or workubg the forges, they were solid. They enjoyed those jobs, they knew what they were doing, it was great. For the sisters who showed up at the mansion of their own accord, they often didn’t know what to do with themselves. They’d either sit around, bored, or fill their time by causing mischief, or patrol the halls looking for things to do, and change things around that other sister would later change back. In a single day, a painting changed which side of the hallway it was on 47 times, simply because two aimless sisters kept walking by and thought it looked better on their preferred side. By my estimates, there were a lot of sisters who were being fed even though they were doing no work for the greater good. Disgusting freeloaders.
This all came to a head during the battle of the library.
The differences became irreconcilable, the sides entrenched in their ideals after months of going back and forth.
On one side was Xeres, and those who argued that books should be categorized by page count.
On the other side was Gebbi, backed by those who thought the books should be arranged in a color gradient.
I, for one, agreed with Gebbi, but non-Workers weren’t allowed to participate in this debate. Also the lady of the mansion said books should be divided by genre, then listed in alphabetical order, but nobody paid attention to her. This had grown beyond the scope of what a human could control.
The standoff took place in the foyer, mostly. Xeres with her chin up and arms crossed on one side, Gebbi with her sharp gaze and hands on her hips on the other side. The leaders stood only a foot apart, with their supporters hurling insults at the other side. Three times, the battle descended into a brawl, with fists and kicks flying on all sides.
Production virtually stopped in the mansion as every Worker picked a side, even those who stayed underground and never even saw the library.
At first, we tried to solve the issue democratically. Each side gave their arguments, and we counted how many people supported each position. This ended up failing as, due to that mischief problem from earlier, a lot of sisters voted for both sides and the results were worthless.
Then we tried to consult Master. Sadly, we had no Seers to directly ask you, and nobody could make sense of the signs you sent us. A cloud passed over the sun, a flock of birds fluttered in a tree, bob sneezed, what did these signs mean and how should we have interpreted your opinion on the matter? I dunno, but sisters were throwing around ‘heretic’ accusations, and this is when the fists started flying.
But fists were inefficient, so they started ripping off wood panels or banisters to use as weapons. Those aimless Slavani finally found a purpose, to crush the other side underpaw, and there was no talking their way out of this. Both sides would fight until the other was destroyed.
Doors ripped off hinges, sister bashed over the head, biting and scratching, pulling hair and fur, it was a mess. I mean, Workers are weak, so nobody actually got seriously injured, but the hate and desire to cause serious bodily harm was there. We Soldiers and Assassins stayed out of it. Nobody wanted to harm one of these fools and incur Master’s divine wrath.
“Ribbee!” Bob said, grabbing my arm and pinning me against a wall. “You’re a Soldier, aren’t you? Can’t you get them all to stop?”
“Nope. By Master’s divine law, Workers can’t be harmed. They won’t listen to me, so we just have to wait until they tucker themselves out. Or we could burn the library and see if that works, but I think the problem might be too far removed from the initial cause.”
“What!? Then… then how do you stops fight like this back at your den if Soldiers can’t intervene?”
“Pfft,” I smiled, “it never gets this bad in the den in the first place.”
“Why not? What keeps it from getting that bad?”
“Casters. They keep everyone organized and prevent issues like this from popping up.”
Bob looked down and gripped the bridge of his nose, tapping the top of my head with his horn, “then why didn’t we get any Casters before now?”
“Cause I was worried about getting everything else in order, dude!” I tried shoving him off, but he didn’t budge. “Do you know how hard it was for me to think up everything needed to keep this mansion in order? Very! Sorry if I forgot about one thing out of fifty!”
He sighed, “then how about we go get a Caster or two now?”
“Sure! Hehheh, hopefully the mansion’s still standing by the time we get back, haha.” He glared at me, “u-uh, well, I mean, if it’s not, we can just rebuild it, right?”
He grabbed me by the back of the collar and dragged me to the cart.