What follows is absolutely nightmarish. A whole month of wrangling all sorts of ends and ans Konistan had under his thumb under control. He was the sort of fellow with so semblance of brain, but critical lack of oomph, always falling short on what he started. The sad thing is, he didn't realize that, because everyone is still falling short and thinking it normal in this society. So I push things. Hard.
Konistan trading house is no more. Now, it is simply Northern Bank. I have had decided to split off the banking into a wholly separate organization and incorporate other things as affiliated companies, all of it under the generic aegis and oversight of Northern Trading Incorporated, a non-stock for-profit organization. Konistan did the "boxes stacked one into another" model. On paper, he owned four shops, a comrcial stable and two mid-sized carracks anchored in rsaille. De facto, those shops were in turn owning other shops. No, not the people in the shop. Shops themselves. An inspired bit of tax evasion, all things considered. Abraham swore a blue streak once I brought him the details. We hamred out a little agreent - he calls the old tax debts void in exchange for bulk paynt of about three months worth of collective taxes at once (partially in products, he loved the idea of getting his army reard with proper steel as a tax obligation), I handed over half a dozen people I had so nasty dirt on (Two rapists using their status to hush things up, three embezzlers and one genuine serial killer. That last one was a REAL piece of work. Minor noble, major headcase, all-out nasty bastard. He had sothing against tall people, would capture them and saw their legs off at the knee to be "proper". The fact they all died from shock, blood loss or sepsis didn't seem to register, he had cadavers in his "hostel" years old that he still brought als to and tsked about them being picky over food. Normally, this kinda folks would get outright smote if they ever showed up in a temple, gods in this reality DO pay attention when soone this vile shows up, but apparently nutso had wisely avoided being anywhere near the temples or priests.) for public executions (dieval tis, people. Execution at this ti does not necessarily an death. Rapists were hung, the serial killer was beheaded, embezzlers were rely whipped raw.) and things started settling down.
I had a good initial trump to browbeat Konistan's people, with 'Verwaand' taking out money and no one even trying to stop him, and I used this trump ruthlessly to root out the initial resistance. After that, despite the grumbling over the new company requirents, things went smoothly. And my requirents were many. Smiles, politeness, indifference to social rank - be you a lord or a peasant, you will be treated with the sa high standard, uniforms. The last one was actually stupidly popular. I initially introduced it as a bit I could retract if I needed to make a show of giving a concession, but turns out that wearing my uniform is a social status in itself. I'm honestly more than a bit flabbergasted, but also spread the idea back to the duchy. I also altered the uniform to include the flower embroideries and started distributing a copied pamphlet that explains several basic spells anyone can pull with those that have ho utility value, after it beca clear to that people are not just willing but also eager to wear the uniform. Dwarves started to show up in their own version of the uniform, and... reported about a 5% increase in profit. Like... What? (Dwarven version of the uniform includes chainmail woven into the heavy leather overcoat and actually looks pretty spiffy. But good luck moving in this unless you make your living swinging pickaxe.)
I... might have bitten off more than I thought there was. Thankfully, I can stretch my maw as wide as I want, so chewing is not a problem. Also, it is now common knowledge that I can teleport (Ironic, because I didn't actually use that one.), because I added a bunch of my matter to each initial letter sent with pigeons and subsequently massed up in assorted... extraneous biomass in the respective cities. As of now, I have clusters back ho (Dad was flabbergasted when I popped in for a spot of tea. He was even more flabbergasted when I told him I took the spell from the Sultanate mage. The only place I actually teleported to, used that nook in the attic no one ever cos to that I rembered.), in Bakarat (Konistan turned out to have a shop in Ed's lands. Nothing big, just a general reseller store. I bamfed it up with new products and instituted a 5% discount for Ed's workers. Ed ca by the next day to ask why the hell his governor sent him a letter of gratitude for "enlightened foresight in picking your allies".), in rsaille and in Grenwille. The rest of the shops are near those four, and I can reach them easily enough via local ans.
In rsaille, Konistan's carracks are in a state of horrible disrepair, I'm surprised they can even sail. Paid to have them docked and rebuilt extensively. Worked out a deal with the dockmaster, he gives preferential treatnt and timber discount in exchange for blueprints for carrack to galleon conversion. Mostly, streamlining the top structures and better sail rigging. I also gave him the plans for proper galleons. Won't be faster than my brigantines, they're nearly a century behind, but will be a good improvent over the square sail only karracks. Decent update for bulk shipnts. He apparently knows Selene's stepdad and has good things to say about him, so when I ntioned he's gonna be showing up with new ships, well... Let's just say that dockmaster is going to listen to very well. The shops here are getting an update and a turnover of employees. So aren't up to it. Have to work slower here, the road is still extending towards this area. I had a discussion with the crew of two ships. They're obviously beached while ships are being refurbished. Officers and captains are fine, most of them agreed to take a couple months off (I did pay them so to keep them around, and it seems they are rather glad to have ti to spend with their families), a few had left for greener pastures. They got severance packages. Except one who thought he had a bright idea to steal the ship's coffer. That fellow was introduced to a good-sized boulder, a length of chain and given a permanent place of residence in the bay. Sailors don't like thieves, who knew?
The actual sailors of the ships? Most of them don't have the savings to live on for a couple months, and even if I gave them paynt for the ti, a good deal of them will just crawl into the bottle and will be unsalvageable by the ti the ships are ready. So I gave them an offer. Option one - they get a monthly pay as a severance package and are free to look for a new ship to hire themselves on. Option two - they can spend the ti getting paid for working on the road crew. Food, clothes, soap, reasonable amount of liquors, magical healing in benefits. Much to my surprise, I had a grand total of FIVE people wanting to leave out of ninety six sailors. The rest grabbed on the road crew offer with both hands. Konistan was not generous paying them, but he DID pay, and I made sure the paynt reached the people properly, so... why? Oh well. I'll find out later, I guess.
Grenwille is a ss. Konistan had a protection racket there involving rich farrs and blackmailing the lord of the lands who nominally oversaw the farrs. eting with the lord was awkward. He was obviously expecting to continue the extortion. Getting the letters back (Apparently, marquis Sadoux enjoys unconventional sex.) and my assurances that so long as he limits his exercises in bondage to willing participants, I'm not going to poke my nose into his bedroom leave him rather... flabbergasted. Another five awkward minutes are spent clarifying that no, I'm not interested in bondage myself and in fact have a harem that satisfies entirely. As it turns out, he is also a theater aficionado, but the public has a hard ti with the explicit nature of his performances. I suggest to him to write books instead, explaining that openly attending a performance that will brand you as a pervert is much harder than buying a book where only the shopkeeper is privy to your depravity. He is... rather taken by the idea, especially after I ntion that there is a book-copying machine available for sale for discerning patrons in the Parsee. The agreent about farrs is more of an afterthought than anything else. To sum it up, I'm building a couple mills and farrs use my organization as their wholesaler.
eting with farrs goes... interesting. They are obviously sullen and suppress hostility in the beginning. Not surprising, Konistan treated them like shit. It is rather pleasing to see their faces gradually slacken and elongate as I outline new policies, explain the transparency asures and lay out several options that they can take. By the end of the eting? Most of them are smiling, and all of them look thoughtful. Apparently, Konistan insisted they all produce the sa grain, and my suggestion they vary things up a bit to avoid the dangers of monoculturalism leaves them much more accepting of as their business partner. They put forth a surprising request, though. Apparently, they already heard about my uniforms, so they asked that I think up so kind of token to award to farrs who are affiliated. After so consideration, I offer them a sash with Gillespie Crest, a sigil of Northern Trading Inc. and again a bunch of embroideries accompanied with a pamphlet on basics they can pull with it. It is accepted with enthusiasm I frankly find more than a little... excessive. Honestly, is my protection by affiliation worth that much? I'm guessing they are used to people squeezing them for all that they have now, rather than investing to make sure they are a source of profit for years to co.
In Parsee itself, the change of leadership goes... squeaky. People here enjoyed most of the illegal benefits, and my insistence that no, there will be no more thuggish policies leaves them feeling threatened. I have to fire more people in Parsee than in the rest of the holdings taken together. A good deal of managers and overseers, to be honest. Solving that ss is... a ss. Thankfully, Roxolane pitches in at this point. She is obviously gifted with mathematics and loves using that gift. Still, handling the accounting... gah. Just.. gah. To help along, I pitch the idea of a magical arithmoter to Moon Unit. It's still in the works, but promises to be a significant improvent over the abacus that is currently the best calculation device available. Banking is currently on a holding pattern until I can introduce calculation machines and double-entry accounting properly. Shops are so far not that complex to keep track of, but that will change soon as the economic network grows stronger. Oh, Northern Bank still offers loans and takes deposits that can be recovered in every city with the departnt (Parsee, Kalos, rsailles, Bakarat and Grenwille, so far. In negotiations to open additional branches in Tolosse, Nant, Haver, Antverp and Verdan, that should cover the country reasonably well.).
Dwarves deliver the parts I requested for the large scale printing press. It is... massive, honestly. Magic helps, but there is only so much enchantnts can do if I'm not willing to shackle up a mage to the machine to provide the juice. Therefore, the press is also a fairly extensive flowerbed. Thankfully, the gossip trio are too awed with the rate of printing to object, and are well off sufficiently to afford buying up a decently sized building to install the press in. Inauguration newspaper is printed at two thousand batch to begin with... And subsequently reprinted two more tis at twice the volu, because the demand is just crazy. I need to look into setting up so kind of paper manufacturing, because current facilities are barely keeping up with once a week newspaper. eting papermakers... Annd they are ridiculously eager to sign up as an affiliate company. Hello, Northern Paper Manufacturing. Situated in the village two hours by horse north of Parsee, takes in mulch and sawdust and bark and other wood castoffs, grinds them down in waterwheel-powered shredders, then presses the paper sheet out of papiermache. Their previous thod involved a fine sh on a fra and produced sheets as big as the fra. Obvious limitations. Rotopress extruder allows to create rolls of paper. Still very primitive and slow by my asures, but two rolls per week is enough to supply the weekly newspaper and they can keep the third roll to sell in parcels to bookbinders and as loose paper.
Inaugural roll is delivered to the palace, and I'm treated to a rather rare sight of Abraham outright gaping at the thing. He then requests a separate copperphone pair so that he could have direct access to the newspaper. Gossip Trio are... more than a bit nervous about suddenly getting summoned, and MORE then a bit weirded out to find out that king himself finds the newspaper idea very intriguing and would in fact like to rent a permanent space for his own proclamations, paid for by furnishing courier carriages to disseminate newspapers to several major cities. They're... a little bit freaked out that their "house project" is suddenly a national enterprise, but accept the decision with surprising aplomb. I find myself sorely wishing for that aplomb when I'm treated to triple squealing in the carriage as it clears the palace gates. Apparently, DeeDee, ee and LeeLee consider this a coup of coups and swear their eternal friendship for landing them this gig. I take the opportunity, and suggest to them the idea of "Newspaper Club" - an organization of noble ladies who get the discount on newspapers in exchange for providing the gossip. They will have to train so dedicated reporters eventually, but to begin with, crowdsourcing is just the thing to take this dia project off the ground, and the idea of belonging to a club suggests certain exclusivity that would keep them well-supplied with gossip and news.
My surprise project is progressing apace. It is shaping up to be nice and comfortable and is one of the areas where magic is a big help, in no small part because I personally enchant the thing to the gills. It helps that the construct is big enough to afford hosting several ceramic flowerpots. That should explain away the power requirent coverage.
Up north, I take advantage of my now known mobility to do so personal inspections. Dwarves are really getting things on track there. I am shown the prototype steam engine. Unfortunately, the ratio of power is not favorable to keep it powered solely off flower magic, but it IS possible to create a coal enrichnt facility that would stuff the coal processed in it chock-full of fire magic to raise its heat payload. Actually, so experintation later, we settle on two kinds of plants. One produces high-yield coal that burns almost as hot as magnesium, but burns out as quick as regular coal. Other produces high-endurance coal that burns a quarter less hot than regular, but lasts almost five tis longer. Magic is hella useful. I also take so ti to test assorted enchantnts on stovepipe grates to capture the escaping carbon and redirect it - either to the carbon collector, or back to the furnace, depending on construction.
The first rail line will be ready for testing by the end of autumn and will connect the Grand Forge (Dwarves are so-so at naming, they just call the new settlent Grand Forge) and the port of Kalos. The second line will connect Kalos with Parsee, and it will be ready by early spring, tentatively. I'm not putting too much emphasis on throughput for now, I want the concept lines laid down to prove this is a viable thing before I start ramping up, and if Roxolane's theory of portals proves itself, we just might replace the ore and tal shipping with portal networks. Unfortunately, the more complex the thing is, even chemically, the less useful portals beco.
I've received a letter from the viceroy of Albion, most honorable Cromwell (WHAT?... By all accounts, this version of Ol' Ironsides isn't as militant as I rember from previous world's history, but is rather well-known as capable, if sowhat miserly administrator.), and he is requesting for terms on which I'd agree to sell cure for cold for his cold cold isles. I reply to him with a letter that if he were to collect acolytes from temples and send them to Parsee, they will be taught how to prepare it in the local temple and give him a figure for bulk shipnts of ready cure, honey, ouzo and mint. Prelate Iohann... is exasperated, but mollified with my offer to donate so gold to the temple to afford the housing, because Cromwell sends no less than a hundred of acolytes. I'm guessing colds are a big problem up north, doubly so at the sea. Dad is also... exasperated, asking if I ever plan to stop turning up even more profit, or my goal is to fill my family estate with the gold to the attic. Both of them double down on the things to handle this. Then I get a call from Abraham, who is sheepish. Apparently, Cromwell wrote to him first, but the letter ca in the middle of the ss with Ed and got misplaced until now. So he calls in and asks if there are any problems with dealing with this on short notice. So I ask him to keep a watch on the temple and help prelate Iohann if the temple has any problem housing so many extra acolytes.
Goodness. I thought one shop was a hassle. Neverfucking mind that, the financial empire is ORDERS of magnitude more hassle. I'm so thankful I nabbed Roxy, I'd go nuts slogging through all the accounting without her help. Note to self - do sothing nice for all of the wives, their support and help is the only thing that gets to crawl out of bed in the morning.
Academy studies are... Eh. I basically badgered professors for advance assignnts, turned in stuff the next day and apparently made more than a few of them wonder the hell I'm still doing in Academy. In particular, Alchemy professor is... vocal. Apparently, so of the basic chemistry I've used to handle the assignnt is sothing not yet known, and she is... insistent on dropping "all that nonsense" and writing a book on "new discoveries". I admit, I was more than a LITTLE miffed at her. And responded... a little bit an. Because my response was to split into a dozen, write down a reasonably comprehensive textbook on inorganic chemistry over the evening, make a dozen copies and turn them in (well, I turned in ten copies, I kept two for my own library references, one with and another one sent off to estate). Which, apparently, caused her to lock herself in over the weekend and show up hungover and wild-eyed to her lesson on Moonday.
Ever since, alchemy class is in use well after classes are over and there is apparently a freshly budding club of "Mineral Alchemists" poking at all sorts of rocks and ores to try and disprove my book. Well, they STARTED trying to disprove. Right now, they are enthusiastically adding more data and discovering new stuff. I might toss a prir on organic chemistry at them next sester, see what they make out of almighty Carbon. Oh, I also had been confronted by the professor (thankfully in private) about how it shouldn't be possible for coal and diamond to be the sa thing. Long story short, the professor in question is now in possession of an artificial diamond and a severely cracked worldview. Thankfully, it is profligately expensive of magic to create diamonds like this. I can handle it, maybe a dozen more people on the planet can handle it (once in a couple years), and that's it. What I don't tell her is that I'm going to be creating an artificial diamond dust machine next spring, dwarves should advance the tallurgy sufficiently enough to have use for diamond-tipped tools.
This morning, I wake up with a distinct feeling that I need, deserve and MUST HAVE a day off. And oh, would you look at it? It's Caturday.
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