The river Selmetral flowed southwest from the village of Giliepii. From its waters came the water necessary for the farmers in the region to irrigate their farms. For drinking water, wells were dug so there would be no use of polluted water. On the east bank this morning, the young boys had gathered together. Every three days, these twenty youths would gather for compulsory military training.
Universal male conscription was the primary means by which the kingdom of Drayma maintained its military strength. Separating the country into military districts, all males were required to participate as soon as they turned ten. While training began at a young age, the active service age was eighteen. The expected term of service would be twenty years for all conscripted individuals.
With the kingdom being landlocked with no maritime interaction with the rest of the world, Drayma was at the mercy of its neighbours. Requiring the nation to take a proactive approach to its defence. Not a large country by any few took the kingdom seriously. The mountainous region on the western border had not been explored since its annexation eight years ago.
The mountains near Giliepii were an oddity, a grouping of six peaks that seemed to rise out of nowhere. The farmland could be seen as an oddity because most of Drayma was either rocky foothills or frozen tundra. The original borders of the kingdom of Drayma forty years previous had been much further north than now.
Standing with the rest of his peers Deyxel held a wooden sword over his head in unison with the others. The sound of the air swooshing was all that could be heard, not a sound was made. Orders could come at any time to change direction, thrust this way slash the other. So everyone was at their peak concentration. Having been at this for more than three hours, everyone was tried wanting to go home.
"Trainees swords down, form ranks and take ten laps around the village."
"Ah, we were so close to being done."
"Quiet, get running, or you will get a beating, and I will be present to make sure you get it."
From where they stood in the training field, all twenty boys rushed to their place in the formation. A single lap around the village was the usual finishing activity for training, having to do ten was not pleasant. What was more, the Major had overseen discipline many times. Never beating them himself but having their mothers do it. Convenient in a way, not having to do it would mean no parental dissatisfaction towards him at all.
With a wave of the Major's hand, the group proceeded at a jog. The older boys are at the front of the formation with the younger filling the back. Within the formation, Deyxel was close to the back. Only joining last year, he, like the rest with him. Had the enjoyable time of choking on the dust produced by those in front of them. Coming to the end of the fifth lap, out of the corner of his eye. Deyxel could see a member of the formation who was shorter than the rest struggling.
This individual was Herzach iron hood son of the new blacksmith. Having moved into the village six months ago from across the continent, the dwarven family was adjusting to the culture shock. There is no mass conscription in the Dwarven kingdoms on the other side of the Beglen Tebore, also known as the great river that divides the continent. To Deyxel, this family was strange. What would lead a man to lead his family away from a prosperous nation to one that was not?
This kind of thinking at present would get him nowhere. The lack of connections would inevitably mean he would live, marry and die in this village unless he did something. Depending on how well the first load of stone sold, he may be able to cut out something for himself in the future.
"Hey, Herzach, the run is almost done. Hang in there." [Deyxel]
Shocked by the encouragement, the young dwarf pressed on with renewed determination. Finishing their laps, the youths were promptly sent home. For Deyxel, this was his time to head back into the mountains. The work he had done before had not been moved yet from the cache still, he wanted to see if any letters had arrived. Thankfully for him using the guise of a recluse wishing to not interact but provided a useable skill would not attract too much attention. Aside from taking the stone, the village people would stay clear of such a person and ask no question. All the village chief cared about was acquiring the stone itself. He could care less about the one who provided it.
This situation worked well for Deyxel, who wanted to work on his runes in peace and make money while not being hounded. Taking the letter, he headed up to his little work area. The once little space he had cut out of the granite mountains side was bigger now. With most of the stone, he had cut the other day coming out of this area. Made a space he had no idea how to fill at the moment.
Sitting on the stone seat, Deyxel looked at the letter, with nothing taken from the stash. Either the amount was too much for the village to move at the moment. Or, having investigated merchant prices, the potential profit was undesirable.
~Dear sir, peace be upon you. At the present time, we find ourselves unable to continue to take the stone you provide. I have sent to the nearest city for a merchant to sell the stone to but have heard nothing at this time. I hope that news will come from Kylmeithos soon. As for the tools you asked for, expect the first five units to arrive in three days.~
Finishing the letter, Deyxel smiled as he placed the paper on his desk. Waiting for the stone to sell was not a problem for him at the moment. Seeing as he was dependent on his parents, who meet all his needs. If by some miracle, this little venture could make some money. Whether it made anything today or three weeks from now did not matter to him. Closing his eyes, he sat in silence. While he had worked hard on cutting stone, he had other projects he was working on.
From his elder sister, he had learned that in other more advanced regions in the country. That is to say, the capital and its immediate surroundings used steam-powered vehicles. Having never seen anything of that type while living in this world yet. Deyxel wondered at what level of steam-powered technology the nation was currently in. In his old world, the age of steam was almost one hundred years gone. Thinking of his current living conditions, it was not too much of a stretch for him to understand the low situation of his family. History always points to those who live at the bottom of society. Living in a condition far beneath the ivory towers of the elite.
That was not to say that the family that Deyxel was born into was destitute. His father had been able to pull a good crop every year for the last five. Resulting in a profit being made for every one of those years. With that income, his father bought more land and expanded the house.
Scrape...crumble...crumble.
"Ow, what did I fall into?"
Opening his eyes with a jolt, Deyxel turned his head towards the entrance to where he was. Rocks fell all the time in this place, but they never complained when they fell. Getting up from his seat, Deyxel moved as quietly as he could towards the entrance.
"Why is my luck so horrible? If I could use magic like everyone else this would not have happened."
For a moment, Deyxel looked out of the cave structure to see no one outside but the voice of someone he recognized was out there somewhere. Surveying the area, he could see nothing until he looked at the ground a few yards in front of him.
'Wait a minute, is that hair?'
Walking over to the location, it became evident what he had seen. In this spot the other day, he had drawn out two blocks of stone. Looking down into the hole he found a dusty little dwarf looking up at him.
"Herzach, what are you doing down there?" [Deyxel]
"I was following you." [Herzach]
Far from the village of Giliepii, the city of Kylmeithos clambered with the sounds of people coming and going. Guards patrolled the streets while merchants sold their wares to passers-by. In this mass of people, a middle-aged man stood confused. Brethma Froana had been sent by his father-in-law to sell blocks of cut granite. Having been in the city for close to two whole days, one would think he had not found a merchant to sell to all this time. However, It was better to say that he was, procrastinating ever since he arrived. His wife had loaded him with a list of necessaries to buy. While he was enjoying the sites of the city, a messenger from the village found him with instructions to sell as swiftly as possible. With nothing to act as a distraction, he moved to Merchant Guild street, where he currently stood.
The number of guilds in the city made choosing one difficult. Twenty different groups of merchants trying to outsell and buy one another. Looking to the three wagons that held the stone, he wondered how much it would all make.
Entering the first establishment, Brethma walked up to the reception desk. A young man around twenty sat on his side of the desk, looking preoccupied with something.
"Excuse me, I need an appraisal on some merchandise." [Brethma]
For a moment, the young man looked at Brethma with a scrutinizing eye and returned to whatever it was he was doing before.
"You are on the wrong end of the street merchants for rural produce are further down the street."
Caught off guard by the poor service the older man moved closer to the desk leaning towards the young man now paying attention.
"I have three wagons full of cut stone if you don't want any, I am sure someone will." [Brethma]
With a skeptical look on his face, the young man moved around the desk towards the door and looked at the wagons from the door.
"Well, let's see what you got."
For an instant, the desire to hit this person sat high on Brethma's priority as he passed by him. Grabbing a tarp that had been placed over the merchandise, the young man bolted back into the building.
Surprised, Brethma looked at the stone, wondering if it could be worth that kind of reaction. Waiting next to the wagon, he could hear animated voices coming from inside. The next moment an old man came bounding out the door, eyes locked on the stone.
"Where did you come by this?"
With a hand caressing the stone, the old man did not change his attention while asking.
"There was a cache of stone in the mountains. Who cut them, we do not know, but if you would be willing to enter into a contract with our village. We will be able to continue to supply stones of this quality." [Brethma]
The old man did not seem to acknowledge anything he just said moving from stone to stone with a measuring rod, checking each piece.
"What do you think, Master?"
The young man stood a distance off while the old man continued to appraise the stone.
"There is no sign of stonemason tools being used on this stone. The dimensions are continuous with little deviation. Even in the capital, there is no stone cut to this precision."
Still standing next to the cart Brethma waited for the appraisal. While listening to all that was going on he could sense the price of the stone to be immense.
"For a single piece of this quality, I would have to price this stone at twenty gold soubai per stone."