Michael
The scratching of a feather on paper and the aroma of a cup of tea in a room filled with books and reports. That was the life that Michael yearned for, he liked fighting, it gave him a different sort of rush, but here in his father's office, he found true peace.
His hand stopped for a moment, he still had trouble calling this his office. It was much like his father had left it; the books Michael had brought were mostly placed on the ground with rugs beneath them to cover the ground. Other than that Michael had changed little, there was still the large table in the center covered in maps, the broad wooden table he was sitting on now, the chair that his father had used with an extra box placed on it to let the small boy sit there. The few trophies that his father had deemed worthy to be hung on his empty walls and above all the magical nameless longsword.
With a smile, he looked at the sword and let his mana flow toward the blade to hear its ring as it greedily drank it. He didn't give it too much and for a moment he imagined feeling disapproval from the blade before he turned back to the documents in front of him.
Michael straightened them and his gaze stuck to his hands, they were spotted with small scars like patches of singed flesh turned nearly black. The price he had to pay for his reckless use of mana nearly two months ago. His hands had healed well according to Sola, but these scars were for life.
Sola had suggested that he could use thin gloves to hide them, but Michael wasn't ashamed, it was a battle wound that he was proud of, even if he inflicted it himself. It didn't matter to him much but at least he was back to training again even if it had become more stressful to get training and work balanced.
A knock dragged Michael out of his thoughts and in came a middle-aged man. He was dressed conservatively but still had an aura of elegance. He was the start of a solution to his work problem because even if Solon and others had helped him, they just couldn't put their own duties off to aid with the paperwork and schedule. Michael and the counties needed trained personnel who could deal with the amount of paperwork that was needed for a well-functioning realm and Parcival was the first.
“Milord, Mister Farel and Mister Waren have arrived and are waiting in the council chambers for you,” Parcival said with a small bow. It had proven rather difficult to find someone who could read and write to an acceptable degree and also possessed the intellect and personality to do this work without annoying Michael. When he had finally nearly given up Parcival had heeded the call, the younger brother of a merchant, and Michael had accepted him into his service.
Schools will be high on the priority list, at least in cities, Michael thought but quickly refocused on the black-haired man in front of him.
“Good,” he said and handed a stack of papers to the man, “These are done, take care of sending them out, please.”
“As you wish, milord,” he bowed once again and left the room with the letters.
Michael quickly organized his desk, patted down his clothing, and then made his way to the council chamber where Farel and Waren waited for him.
“Greetings, Lord Rowan,” Waren welcomed him politely.
“Heya, Lord,” Farel was less polite.
After returning their greetings, Michael stepped to the table where they were waiting. A blanket had been laid on the wood to protect it from the collection of rocks that had been placed upon it, they shone with the telltale sign of minerals.
“Ah the first shipment of ores has arrived,” Michael assumed and took a good look at them. He could see the coloration of iron, copper, zinc, and to his delight silver. Of course, he knew already what they had found for weeks but to see the first spoils for himself was still a good feeling.
“Aye, they started with the silver mine, so we got that mostly, but they sent us samples of the rest for us to test and I have to say this stuff rivals or even exceeds the quality of what comes from dwarven mines,” Farel said in his heavy accent.
“The purity is excellent even with only a little work and the mana conductivity is very high for these kinds of minerals,” Waren added, mirroring but containing the excitement of his brother.
“That sounds great. For now, we will make silver ingots and sell them. We are deep in the red and need some money to pay back our debts.”
The clearing of the mountains had been extremely expensive between the draining costs of the adventurers, supplies, and other wages; the coffers of the counties would have been emptied multiple times over if it weren't for the investments of Duke Wallsten and loans of the merchants. Now was a critical moment though, the interests were high, and they needed to get rid of them before they accumulated.
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The operation was not even over yet, they had released the adventurers already and around half of their troops, but the rest were still in the mountains, hunting for hidden survivors and putting down newly spawned monsters, they would have to remain there until civilization had taken hold.
Farel and Waren exchanged gazes and Waren spoke up, “We can definitely work with the amount that is coming through the mines, they are expanding as fast as possible but with the lack of manpower it won't be overly much.”
“I know, but miners and trainable men are coming in from all around, I have put out the word in House Rowan’s villages that there is work to good conditions so the worker shortage should be mended as time passes.”
“Then we have the second problem that this city is not equipped to handle large amounts of raw ore,” Waren continued.
“That is true. I know you don't have workplaces on the scale and quality that you are used to right now but once we have some more money on our hands we will invest in smelters and forges as the first point of business,” Michael answered, and saw the relief on the dwarves faces. “I know that the mines and your work will be our primary income and I won't stop until we have achieved its true potential.”
Waren nodded and grabbed a tiny shard of the table, “It is good of you to think that way because the true potential in those mountains is vast.” He held up the tiny shard between his fingers and something vibrated slightly in the air.
Michael frowned and tried to track down the feeling until he noticed the vibration not in the air but in the mana.
“Is that magical ore,” Michael asked while staring at it.
“Blacksteel,” Farel said with a glint in his eyes. “It definitely falls in the category of magical ore. Much denser than regular iron or even steel, it resonates very well with earth mana, an exceptional material for standardized arms and armor, and highly valued in dwarven lands. Zinnel wrote me that he found a large vein up in the middle region but that he doesn't have to tools to mine it.”
Michael nodded as he thought about what that meant, magical ores were rare because they only appeared where there was a high mana density for a long long time. To find one of these materials so quickly and easily promised great things for the future of their mining endeavors.
“Okay, get your workers to start with the silver smelting, that has priority right now, but I want you, Farel, to start making enchanted tools for the mines. Whatever riches we might gain from selling silver will be laughable if we can start making tools, weapons, and armor out of magical metal,” the fire in Michael's eyes was met with agreement from the dwarves but Farel had to stump his expectations.
“I will do what I can, and I am sure I can make some tools to mine Blacksteel but don't expect anything clean. The tools and smithy that I have access to here are in no shape to make anything but the most crude enchantments.”
Michael could hear the hesitation in the master smith's voice and tried to soothe his grievances. “I can imagine that is isn't the kind of work you want to deliver but once we get going, I will make sure to help you build a smithy that can rival the great forges of Garekha.”
With his mood raised, they spoke about supplies and extra buildings that they needed to extend their smelting operation before they left shortly after.
“That is a relief,” Solon noted, and Michael turned to the dwarf who had also been present but had kept quiet the entire time.
“It is, now I can hopefully stop Lord Oligan's complaining about the state of our finances,” Michael said with a smile and picked up one of the rocks. Solon stayed quiet and watched while Michael put it back down and turned to the real center of his interest, the shard of unrefined Blacksteel.
Before his inner eye, an army of heavily armored soldiers appeared, each of them clad in the finest Blacksteel armaments. No one would dare to move against them and then they would be safe.
“Talking of the nobles, they are getting increasingly frustrated that you take money from the merchants but not from them. That sentiment will only increase now that the extent of the success will become apparent,” Solon said and looked at Michael with a wary expression.
Michael scoffed, “With the merchants, I at least know what they want from lending me money. The nobles can have any number of plans and expectations if they help me out. I am not going to listen to them for years to come telling me that I should give them preferential treatment just because they helped me out with the mines and that without them, I would have nothing.”
“That is certainly what would happen, but I believe you should placate them somewhat. They are your power base, after all, their support will be paramount for your plans.”
“For now.”
“Yes, but it won't help you in any way if you antagonize them, they might even suspect what is to come if you treat them like the enemy,” Solon smiled a little, Michael had become rather antagonistic to a large portion of the nobles since he took over the reign, even more than before.
There were a hundred reasons for this, and they peppered him from all sides. Reports of corruption, mismanagement, abuse of power, and so much more reached his ears every day. It was an absolute miracle that they didn't have a peasant revolt or bandit uprising every year.
“Might have to organize a feast or something, hand out a couple of gifts, and pat some backs,” Michael replied with a sour gaze that only broadened the dwarf's smile.
“That is one of your responsibilities as the count.”
“Dammit. I will get the servants on that; we wouldn't want anyone to feel abandoned.” In his head, he already put up a list of nobles that he definitely wanted to come, like Viscount Telp and Lord Ragar, so that he wouldn't completely be surrounded by morons. He chastised himself a moment later for these thoughts, being this negative about his people was not a good thing, and that was the point the nobles were also his people and he needed to care for them to the same degree he did with the normal people even if they vexed him to no end.
He didn’t stay much longer and returned to his office where he was stopped by Parcival before he could return to work. “Milord, a royal missive has arrived just now,” the servant said with a stern expression and handed him a scroll with the royal silver lion sigil.
Michael took it with surprise and after checking that it hadn't been opened, broke the seal, taking in the content of the long letter.
He read it once and then again before he spat out with searing anger, “You got to be joking?!”