Klaus had vanished before the wedding, off to nurse a broken heart it was said. He reappeared six years later, when Europa was deep in chaos and ruin with the Heterodynes, as well as most of the other Great Sparks, gone. The final blow came when he found his ancestral castle, as well as the town around it, completely destroyed.
He had reestablished the town, and declared that anyone who attacked it would be mercilessly wiped out and their lands absorbed.
Up until that point Baron Klaus Wulfenbach had been considered a minor Spark adventurer, who had never been taken very seriously, as he had always allowed himself to be overshadowed by his more charismatic companions. His proclamation was considered mere bravado. Nearly fifteen years later, thanks to this simple policy, the Wulfenbach Empire stretched from the great bronze gates of Istanbul almost to the Atlantic Ocean.
Next to him was his son, Gilgamesh, who, though fully grown, had only recently been revealed to the world.
Physically, he resembled his sire. Not quite as tall, nor as broad at the shoulder, perhaps, but impressive none the less. His face was set in lines that seemed too grim for one his age. This was no doubt brought about by the numerous attempts on his life that had occurred since his identity had become known. There were many who had reluctantly knuckled under to the Empire, telling themselves that Klaus was but one man, and thus could be endured. These arguments went out the window with the appearance of an heir. The additional knowledge that he was supposedly possessed of a Spark nearly as strong as his father’s, just made things worse.
Quietly standing at the Baron’s right hand was his secretary, Boris Vasily Konstantin Andrei Myshkin Dolokhov, a man feared throughout the Empire almost as much as the Baron himself. He had started out in life with two arms and an eidetic memory, which had brought him to the attention of the Spark who ruled his homeland. Said Spark had given him enhanced speed, strength, balance, and an additional two arms in an attempt to build the ultimate juggler. Sadly, for Boris, he succeeded.
Boris spent several miserable years as court jester before his master had sent an ill-conceived army of land squids against the Baron. This had resulted in the area quickly being absorbed into the Wulfenbach Empire.
Klaus has a sharp eye for talent, and quickly realized that Boris was not born to the stage. However he was a natural secretary, and had quickly risen to become Klaus’ second in command.
Buzzing angrily around the Baron was the Tyrant of Beetleburg, the Master of the Unstoppable Army, Owner and Headmaster of Transylvania Polygnostic University, Dr. Tarsus Beetle.
Dr. Beetle was a third-generation Spark whose family had established and run the university and its environs for the last hundred and twenty years, maintaining and defending it against other Sparks and their armies. Like the great city-state of Paris, Beetleburg was considered neutral ground. Thus many of the Great Houses of Europa, and elsewhere, had T.P.U. alumnae on staff. About ten years ago, after a particularly hard winter had strained the resources of the area, Klaus, a former student of the University, had offered to absorb both the University and the surrounding town into his expanding empire and extend it his protection, while the Tyrant retained control. Dr. Beetle accepted. This arrangement had worked out well for all concerned, which was why the apparent anger of the Tyrant toward the Baron was so surprising. Indeed he was yelling nonstop as the group entered the room.
The Baron interrupted him in mid-shout and addressed the Jägermonster: “Thank you, Unit-Commander, stand at ease.”
“Jah, Herr Baron.” The soldier’s weapon never faltered, but he allowed himself to slouch a bit. This, for some reason, merely made him look more dangerous.
Beetle resumed his diatribe. “Blast it, Klaus, you’re too early! I told you—”
The Baron effortlessly cut him off and strode over to the group in the middle of the floor. “You’ve had plenty of time, Doctor. Now who are these people?”
Dr. Beetle swallowed his annoyance, and brusquely nodded to each of the staffers as he introduced them. “Dr. Silas Merlot, my second in command.”
As he paused, the Baron broke in, “Ah. I read your latest report with great interest.”
Merlot bowed and clicked his heels together. “I am honored, Herr Baron.”
“Dr. Hugo Glassvitch, my Chief of Research.”
“Welcome, Herr Baron.”
“And this is our lab assistant, Miss Clay.” As he said this, he turned away dismissively. “Now the machine—” Suddenly he stopped, and with a snap, turned to stare at Agatha. “Miss Clay!” He barked, “Where is your locket?”
Agatha blinked. “It… it was stolen, sir. There was an electrical anomaly of some sort and I was accosted by some soldiers while trying to get away.”
The Baron’s eyebrows rose at this. Beetle looked shaken. “Accosted? Stolen?” His voice rose, “In my city?” He clutched at his forehead. “Oh no! This is terrible! Terrible!”
Agatha tried to address his obvious distress. “I’m feeling better, sir, I—”
At this Dr. Beetle snapped out of his distracted state and grabbed Agatha by the elbow and began to hustle her towards the door. “Sh! No! You’re obviously distraught, my dear. I want you to go home. Yes! Go home and have a nice lie down and I’ll have the Watch find your locket as quickly as possible!”
“Wait.” The force of the Baron’s voice arrested Beetle’s movement as if he’d been grasped physically. Agatha looked up to see the Baron studying her with interest. “You actually saw the event in the town?” he asked.
“Yes, Herr Baron, I was right in the middle of it.”
The Baron nodded. “Stay. I would like your observations of the event when I am done here.”
Beetle went pale. “Klaus, the poor girl has had a terrible shock! You must let her go home!”
Agatha tried to calm the distraught scientist. “Master, please! I’m all right. Really.”
Klaus nodded to signal that the affair was closed. “I’m impressed by your concern for your people, Beetle, but the young lady appears stable. Let us get down to business.”
He turned to Merlot and Glassvitch. He gestured towards a large, obviously half-finished device that sat in the center of the room. It was a bizarre collection of tubes and coils that bent and twisted back on themselves in a most peculiar manner. “Doctors. My Dihoxulator. Why is it not finished? I’d thought I’d explained the underlying theory rather succinctly.”
Merlot took a deep breath. “We do not know, Herr Baron. We were able to construct the machine up to a point, but then we hit a block.” Beside him, Glassvitch nodded vigorously. “We cannot reconcile the final linkages with the rest of the assembly,” he added. “We just don’t know what to do to make it work.”
The Baron stared at him steadily for moment. “I see.” He raised his voice. “Gilgamesh?”
The young man looked up from the device he was examining. “Yes, Father?”
“These fellows seem to be having some problems. Can you assist them?”
“I can try, Father. If you’d explain the theory?”
The Baron nodded, placed a hand on his shoulder and drew him over toward the device. Beetle followed. “The basic idea is to promote secondary oxidation…”
Relieved that they were no longer under the Baron’s direct scrutiny, Glassvitch turned to his companion and whispered. “Silas, we’re doomed! We’ve accomplished nothing! They’ll ship us to the Waxworks!”
Merlot however, ignored him. He was staring at the Baron as a suspicion was growing in his mind. A very nasty suspicion. “…Of course.” He muttered, “The Baron knows we don’t have the Spark. We weren’t expected to finish this. It’s a test!”