Kingdom Of Rookhelm

The Kingdom Of Rookhelm

The men rubbed their eyes in an unsuccessful attempt to prevent the ash and smoke from covering their aging faces. The clank-clank-clank and hissing of the various metal gears and pulleys working harmoniously to provide a seamless transition into the Inventors’ Age reverberated off the stone walls with a resounding echo.

“We don’t have all day. Our quota is 700. Let’s get a move on, gents!"

The men shouted at various intervals of pitch, but all accompanied by a spirit-filled fist pump, knuckles clenched and traces of thin, red cuts and bruises of disconcerting yellows and greens snaking their way up the fingers. Even then, the creases of their cheeks and eyes (although considerably plagued by splotches of oil and coal dust) were turned up at the edges in what appeared to be a depleted elation, yet to be marred by the toils of exhausting labor.

Detrimental working conditions, particularly of this establishment, were an area of concern for one man in particular. Down Patton Avenue in a large warehouse with a broad window looking out over the crowded streets, a man loomed, staring at not only such of the dreary landscape he had despised since a young boy bot also the dim streetlights flickering in the distance. He sighed and brushed off his coat, turning his back to the realm he had been able to long since forget for years in turn.

Ordinary? This particular man was not ordinary; to the contrary, he was believed to be rather special. The intellect of a physicist, the curiosity of an inventor, the passion of a novelist and the ingenuity of a corporate official. His brains could not be matched, especially concerning the people of his realm whom he desired to succeed and held in extremely high admiration. He had earned the title of Lord Tato righteously, having constructed a framework for the success of the people of Rookhelm built on the gears and bolts of raw innovation. The Kingdom of Rookhelm was entirely self-sustainable, producing all of its own resources on the wholehearted belief that technology could change the world.

Nevertheless, the kingdom was focused on using technology to change the world. He turned back to the clanking and mechanized whirring that signified the beginning of a new lifestyle.

“Sir?”

The source of the voice approached him, his bowler hat in hand.

“What do you want?” Tato inquired, sitting down at his desk and opening a manila folder marked in bold red lettering.''' '''

“The workers have gone on strike, it appears.”''' '''

“Really?” Tato inquired incredulously, eyebrows raised in apparent questioning doubt.

“Undubitably. Wages lowered until further notice?”

Tato shook his head, eyebrows raised in considerable disapproval now.

“Send them a message. Clearly, authority needs to be asserted. Attack the boroughs first. The families. If business goes down, they can no longer work. Notices posted up in all available areas warning them of risk. Their safety is my number one priority at all times.”

“Terrible business, indeed.”

Tato nodded with a grim expression.

“A lesson has to be taught. For the better of the people.”

“Ta-ta. For the better of the people.”

“Or for the better of the kingdom.”

He smiled, the creases in his mouth curving upward yet not quite meeting the downfolds of the corners of the eyes.

And then he spoke again, straightening up, shoulders back in a symbol of pride for where he stood.

“For Rookhelm.”