Duval Outremer.
Morty watched as the dragues chipped away at the forest en route to the next resource. Sure he was doing alright with whoever this Mason guy was buying his lumber, and the iron was offsetting some costs for weapons and other stuff that he no longer needed to shell out to replace.
But that wasn't good enough for him. So after a sufficient outpost was thrown together around the iron mine, he sent the rest to begin making for the patch of land that would be good for a decent stone quarry. He was thinking about going after the lead, to help with replacing the musket balls his troops used. But none of the goblins had the know-how to properly exploit lead just yet. Though he was assured by Gerard that some of the Noble Goblins were in the process of doing so.
The Noble Goblins have actually been fairly competent, Morty thought as he watched the menial process of goblins cutting trees, and one another on occasion. Since he's been getting a steady stream of iron, a small chunk of it has been going towards the Noble Goblins which were using it to turn into iron wire. Which they would then use for their tinkering or for creating knick-knacks to sell in town along with the rest of the overflow. Nails, saws, axes, and picks were being made in the still rough looking forge they've had going.
Hopefully with stone there'll be less chances of it being burned down, Morty thought as he eyed the recent additions to his labor pool. He, and the Red Caps, were content taking a finger or hand from thieves and other petty criminals in his zone of control. But Gerard suggested putting them to work instead.
Morty wasn't sure about that idea at first. Why would he put some untrustworthy, barely competent, and more importantly less expendable, people to work when he had the goblins? But as he watched the handful of people hacking away at the woods he couldn't help but think it wasn't a half bad idea.
Sure they were technically chain-gangs that've been caught for petty stuff. But even the Colonel thought putting them to manual labor was better than permanent disfigurement. They actually weren't that bad at it, Morty thought as he watched one of them narrowly avoid an axe swing from a drague. The best part about it was that they were more concerned about not getting killed by their fellow menials that the guards barely had to do anything!
It also didn't seem to help them that they started to turn into paranoid wrecks when they weren't working, well, MORE paranoid wrecks. Even while working he's noticed some giving side-eyes to one another. He's already gotten a couple of reports that some of the chain-gangs had even been killed by their fellow non-goblin comrades over the pettiest and lowliest of things.
He wasn't sure if that was just a "prison mentality" or if it had more to do with the rather literal cutthroat nature of the goblins that they worked and lived with during their tenure as somewhat better not-quite-slave-labor. Though if Morty was being frank, he didn't really care all that much. If a bunch of petty thieves and dregs of society wanted to off one another for slightly rotted squirrel so be it. He wasn't going to waste time and effort stopping them!
Though he would admit that having people working for him that weren't goblins that killed one another for shits and giggles was pretty effective when it came to actual work. He was already making pretty decent progress towards the stone. Slightly better labor pool? Check. Progress towards his next resource? Check. With things progressing pretty steadily Morty and the ever present sisters made their way back up the rough trail that had split off from the main one.
Eventually they arrived to where the "hub" would be built. He wasn't sure what else would come out of the woodwork and he wanted to be a bit more prepared. So he ordered an outpost to be built where the paths would intersect. It would have a warehouse to store any excess, a couple of bunkhouses for the menials, as well as a garrison ready to deploy in case something else popped out of the woods or mountains nearby.
Of course that was in the future when he had a steady flow of traffic coming through here. Right now it was just a clearing littered with broken ground and slinters as well as a few bits of drague were misses during clean up and now rotted on the forest floor.
He could see it now though. Dirt roads, perhaps even paved, snaking through the woods as trucks delivered resources to his home and beyond. Sure there wasn't much of that right now, Morty thought as he saw a single trog meander along the rough path with a cart of iron ore. But in the future it was going to be a sight.
Sure the iron wasn't earning him a whole lot right now what with people being a bit wary of goblins, and the admittedly rough condition of the wares, but the fact that some people were willing to buy from his goblins was enough for him. It also seemed to give the Noble Goblins a bit of a boost what with people buying the things they themselves made.
They were getting better, Morty thought as he and the sisters followed along the path back home. When they first started showing a interest in tinkering and crafts everything was liable to explode or fall apart, or both. But now it all just looked like something you'd find from a sweatshop counterfeit operation. On the surface it looked good enough but the second you start putting it through its paces it falls apart and the hundred dollar tag falls off to reveal the cheap knock-off brand beneath it. But at least the cheap prices and bulk sales means he has plenty of repeat customers!
At least the lumber was pretty decent, Morty thought as they crossed the ramshackle bridge and went past the drague shanty town. Then again all you had to do was cut it into planks and sell it. Unlike iron where you had to work it a certain way. Stone will be the same. Cut it a certain way and sell it, the only tricky part was mining it. Oh well, at worst he can sell it as gravel.
He made his way through the army camp as yet more tents were being replaced with proper soldier housing. Some of them anyway. The better goblins would be housed in half decent bunkhouses that would fit a dozen or so of them easily. The bottom of the barrel types can continue to sleep in tents and wear rags.
He looked over to where the workshop/forge used to be and saw where two separate buildings now stood beside one another. The forge ate up most of the iron as it was used to reforge bayonets or other minor repair work. A bit of construction next to it signaled a foundry expansion that would see more large scale smelting and forging. The workshop was where the Noble Goblins tinkered and experimented. What was left of the salvaged vehicles were inside and he could see the remains of several prototype goblin made carts and modes of transportation. Half of which were scorched or in pieces.
He hasn't really checked in on them. Mainly because he didn't really care all that much for the explosive failures or whatever thrown together trash they were working on. Though the report he got from Gerard was that they were experimenting on making some sort of gunpowder substitute as well as a biofuel. Not sure what either would be made of but if he can make a profit from it and cut costs than it could be made from virgin blood for all he cared!
Now if only he could do the same for the leeching nobles, Morty thought as he entered his home and found them eating away at day old greasy pizza. He really was half tempted just to kill them at this point. They were about as useful as chlamydia and he almost ordered it the other day when he caught the shits trying to bribe his guards!
But, once again, Gerard offered a different solution to his problem. The nobles themselves were useless and even their children were akin to those brats from Willy Wonka. But Gerard gave him an idea. Have them marry the goblins! Well, those that had developed an actual sex organ anyway. He told Morty that there was more than one way to be useful. If the current line wasn't competent than simply make a new one.
Of course the idea of marrying, much less procreating, with goblins was utterly refused by every one of them. They said alot of things about dirty greenskins and something about noble heritage and yada yada, he didn't really care. But as useless as they were he wasn't just going to throw a goblin into their rooms and let them have their fun.
So he kindly suggested, read aggressively threatened, that the eligible among them were to meet with some of the Noble Goblins for chances at courtship. Honestly, he didn't expect anything to come from it. But Gerard was proving to be pretty savvy! Just means he didn't have to deal with that headache now, Morty thought as he left the mansion and headed for his Cadillac. It's been a while since he's taken a cruise into town.
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So with the sisters in tow, he headed down the road and towards town. Perhaps he'll check on the Colonel and see how he's doing. He's barely seen him outside of reports. The last he saw him he was complaining about the quality of the rations he and his men got and suggested he take in some of the newcomers as a show of goodwill or something like that.
The former he could do and even eye-balled the cooks when the rations were prepared to be sent out. The latter though? That wasn't going to happen. He already had enough on his plate trying to keep his own people fed along with the useless nobles and their brats he couldn't feed and house every newcomer in town! It might help if they were willing to work with goblins and he could see about them bunking with the Red Caps or maybe even with the Noble Goblins. But as it stood, most were content to freeze and starve than accept help from the goblins. Not all mind you, some were willing to swallow their pride for a clean bed and warm food. But those few could be counted on one hand.
Morty made to turn down the road when an APC rumbled by the intersection! Morty cursed and hurried for the Red Cap garrison! As he made his way to it, he could see other army vehicles rolling through town and he could even see helicopters in the air!
"What the fuck happened?!" Morty cursed as the sisters looked around with concern on their faces.
He stomped on his break as they reached the garrison and the three of them marched in. He could see the Colonel talking with several other Red Caps as they looked over a map of town.
"Squads will remain here, and here. These will fall back to-"
"What happened?!" Morty demanded.
"General!?!" The Colonel said and gave a quick salute, followed shortly after by the others as they noticed Morty.
"What!? Happened?!" Morty asked again.
"We're not sure. They came into town not long ago and have begun to make their way through town. They've begun to make checkpoints at various intersections and a few key locations."
"Any fighting from our end?"
"No. When word came through that they arrived I ordered our men to stand down and retreat."
"Good. We did nothing wrong so they can't legally do anything." Morty said almost to himself.
"What are your orders General?" The Colonel asked and Morty looked around him and down at the map as he tried to recall what his plan was for if the National Guard showed up.
"Like we planned. Go to them and offer your assistance. Don't ruffle any feathers. Don't cause any issues. Just follow their lead. The sooner they get done doing what they came here to do the sooner they leave."
"Should we tell them we're a local militia?"
"Good God no! Tell them anything but that! Tell them you're... private security? Yeah! Private security from the Duval Family! And that you're to assist them in whatever way they need!" Morty declared.
"What about criminals? What should we do about them if we're assisting the National Guard?"
"Leave them unless they ask specifically for your help. If they wanna chase down thieves and thugs let them. Just do your best to stay out of their way."
"What about the trogs?"
"That's... a problem yeah. Oh! Say they're from South Africa!"
"South Africa?"
"Yeah! Or Eastern Europe. Just someplace where people think there are big dumb scary mercs." Morty suggested.
The Colonel looked at Morty uncertainly. But he didn't really have a better plan either. So he saluted.
"Yes General!"
"Good! Hopefully they'll be gone soon and things can go back to normal." Morty declared and departed, leaving the Colonel and the Red Caps to work out how best to approach the National Guard and offer their assistance.
"Alright. That's taken care of. Sorta." Morty muttered as he and the sisters returned to the Cadillac, giving the military vehicles and grunts wary looks before heading back to the mansion.
-----
Sheriff Steinberg sat in the City Council Chambers as everyone within argued and shouted over one thing or another. The newcomers, represented by a dozen different groups and people it seemed like along with the Duchess. The town itself represented by the council, the mayor, the sheriff, and a handful of randoms from the surrounding area. Farmers, ranchers, the local labor, and teamsters.
Things were calm after their arrival and the initial meeting was little more than learning about one another, after that was where the shouting started as the newcomers were frustrated that they felt trapped in a place that didn't have enough food or shelter for them and couldn't seem to be allowed to leave.
Something the sheriff himself was concerned about. From what he was hearing was there were folk in dark suits and Kevlar keeping the newcomers here in town. It sounded like the government. But why wouldn't they just relocate them somewhere better? Why keep them here?
Which just added to the shouting matches lately, it calmed a little when it seemed supplies were being shipped in from the trainyard, or whatever it was called now. But then came more shouting as people were trying to prioritize things.
The shorter folk with large beards wanted resources for shops and workshops. An older gentlemen wearing what looked like priest robes wanted some sort of temple. The Duchess wanted housing and medicine. The locals however were fighting against alot of it and Miles had to step in and keep a couple of riots from breaking out between the two groups.
Some folk liked living in small towns for a reason. Now they were on their way to becoming the biggest city in the state. The farmers and ranchers were nervous about the surrounding land being bought up all of a sudden and were protesting what they considered was "urban encroachment".
There were even a couple of the hillfolk that had come down to spit fire about "trespassers" on the mountain. Said trespassers being the short bearded folk that denied any trespass and stated that the land was theirs. Even producing documents that said as such.
Some of the newcomers complained about "monsters" and wanted guards or an "Adventurers Guild" to deal with them. As much as it might seem helpful, they really didn't need a bounty system in place to add to the list of problems. Especially when half the "bounties" seemed to be on Morty's little army and the other half sounded like it was on something out of a fairy tale. Little lizard folk? Really? Some were even talking about goblins! Sure Morty's army looked kinda like what he saw in fiction of what they would look like. But he wasn't going to waste time, and money, having people chasing after fake monsters or going after people that looked different!
Then the local minister came by and complained about vandalism against the church. Which itself started what seemed to be a theological debate between the Christen God and the Blessed Mother Goddess with some barbs from the short bearded folk as they spoke of a Stone Father.
The teamsters and local labor were complaining about "scabs" at the trainyard as well as what they reported was illegal labor. The short folk retorted that it was all legal, fair, and under contract. Some were complaining about Morty's security or the creatures that lurked in the darker areas of the town. Not like Miles could do anything about it. He was so swamped just trying to keep the peace to go chasing after Morty's private army or whatever was attacking folk at night.
Because things weren't bad enough as is, Miles thought as he rubbed his eyes over the latest issue. Matters of housing and medical aid. With supplies coming in folk were arguing over who got what first. Those that looked liked they had money demanded they get it. Those that looked rough obviously wanted it first and so on and so forth.
Miles thought they were arguing just for something to do. Half the stuff they complained about was petty and there was little fire or spirit to them. He was almost glad when the door to the council chambers opened. He was even more glad when he turned and saw the Major General and several others striding in beside him!
"Oh no." Miles heard the Mayor and a few other council members mutter fearfully. Their eyes darting around at every shadow in the room like it was going to jump out and get them.
"Major General! I'm glad you arrived!" Mile greeted as he got up and shook the Major General's hand.
"Of course. Though we had a few hiccups, we have arrived to offer assistance." The Major General returned and strode forwards to stand before everyone assembled.
"Greetings everyone. I am Colm MacHenry. Major General of the United States Armed Forces and military commander of the West Virginian National Guard. We have come to provide aid and assistance. Along with me is the Air National Guard that will be flying in supplies." The Major General declared before gesturing to the two men beside him.
"This is Medical Officer Joseph Baker and Staff Sergeant Clay Robertson. They will be responsible for any medical emergencies and flight operations respectively." He introduced and the two beside him nodded their heads as they were.
"We understand that things seem dire at the moment. But rest assured that we will do our utmost to get everyone through this as best as we can. In return we will require your assistance and cooperation in return. We will be requesting the local trainyard in order to facilitate-"
"Now hold on lad! You'll do no such thing!" A voice called out from among the group of short bearded folk.
"You will be compensated when the time of crises is over sir. In the mean time-"
"You'll not! Those are OUR trains and you'll not take 'em without payin'! Just like anyone else!" The voice came again.
Miles, and every other set of eyes turned to where two short folk with beards so blond they looked golden sat and bored holes into the Major General. The Major General simply stared back and placed his hands behind his back.
"Sir. As I have said, you will be compensated afterword's. But until then we need the trains in order to bring in supplies."
"And you can. AFTER you pay our family ta do so!"
The room went silent. The Major General calmly walked over to where the golden bearded man sat. Each step echoing in the chamber as he did so. He stared down at the man and his brother.
"Sir? Do you realize that those trains will be invaluable in assisting us? Or that if we don't receive a certain amount of supplies then people will get sick and potentially die? Or how when winter comes they'll be about the only reliable mode of transportation into and out of town?"
"Then you can pay for it like everyone else." The bearded man declared stubbornly.
The Major General stared down at the bearded man, who stared back fiercely. Eventually the Major General turned away.
"Very well. I can't force you to offer your family's trains. I would suggest though that you prepare for the fact that alot of people can, and will, most likely die without your assistance. I hope you can live with that fact."
The two bearded men looked at one another with a measure of concern on their faces.
"We'll... speak with our Da."
With that they departed the council chambers. The Major General didn't watch them leave and instead returned to his spot and addressed the rest of them.
"I understand that we ask much of you, and will ask more of you. It is my hope that you understand that this is a state of emergency and so requires much from everyone. For instance, while temporary shelter is being set up a curfew will be in place for your protection. If it is an emergency you will be escorted to where you are needed. If it isn't, you will be asked to return to your homes or assigned shelter. Repeated violations will result in forceful confinement."
He turned to the mayor.
"I hope I have your cooperation Mayor?"
"Hmm? Oh, sure, whatever. Not like it matters, we'll be dead soon anyway." The mayor mutter with grim resignation.
"It is my hope that doesn't happen Mayor. With me is the Army Corp of Engineers as well as Army Field Medics. They will be working to provide medicine and basic amenities for everyone we can. We will also be assigning guards in and around town for your safety. If you have any issues please do not hesitate to come to me, Officer Baker, or Sergeant Robertson. Are there any questions while we are currently here?"
The newcomers stared in stunned silence at the Major General while the City Council muttered among themselves even as the Mayor seemed to have a sullen and resigned look on his face. The Major General nodded.
"Then we will leave you for now."
With that the Major General tipped his cap and marched out of the Council Chambers, leaving them all with a sense of hope, uncertainty, relief, and dread.