Snowveil Manor, perched on a plateau southeast of Rotengen, was a symbol of prosperity in the harsh climate of Obelia. The grand estate, surrounded by fertile farmland, had thrived despite the cold, thanks to the forefathers innovative agricultural techniques.
The manor's vineyards produced a rare and highly coveted wine, while its livestock, including hardy musk oxen and cold-resistant chickens, provided a steady supply of meat and eggs. With these advantages, Snowveil had secured a near-monopoly on essential food supplies in Obelia. Their ability to produce and control critical resources not only solidified her wealth but also cemented their influence across the region for centuries.
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Lenny sat across from the Thaddeus Marlowe, in the dimly lit council chamber. The room was quiet, save for the crackling of the fire in the hearth and the rustling of papers as Thaddeus reviewed the recent proposal from Lady Eveline. The minister, an older man with a sharp mind and a deep concern for Rotengen's welfare, looked up at Lenny, his brow furrowed.
"Lady Eveline's offer is generous, my lord," Thaddeus began, his voice measured. "But I can't help but feel there's more to it than meets the eye. Selling the grain at 0.35 gold per bushel would certainly bring in much-needed revenue, but the Snowveil family is not known for their altruism."
Lenny leaned back in his chair, his fingers drumming lightly on the table. "Exactly, Thaddeus. The Snowveils have always been shrewd, calculating. They've managed to maintain a monopoly on food production for years, especially in these harsh climates. If we accept their offer, we risk giving them even more influence over Rotengen."
Thaddeus nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation. "So, what do you propose, my lord? The city needs resources, but we can't afford to fall into their trap."
Lenny's gaze hardened as he leaned forward, his voice resolute. "We'll sell the grain, but not at their price. We'll set the price at 0.10 gold per bushel."
Thaddeus blinked, taken aback by the sudden decision. "0.10 gold per bushel? That's a significant reduction."
Lenny nodded, his expression firm. "I know. But The Snowveils have been exploiting the kingdom's need for food for too long, hoarding their wealth while others starve. By lowering the price, we ensure that the grain gets to the people who need it the most, not just those who can afford to pay the Snowveils' inflated prices."
Thaddeus considered this, his mind weighing the pros and cons. "This could be seen as a direct challenge to the Snowveils' control over the market. It might provoke a backlash."
Lenny's eyes flashed with determination. "Let them respond how they will. I won't allow them to ruin this kingdom with their greed. Rotengen needs to rebuild, and we can't do that while being beholden to families like the Snowveils. If they want to make an enemy of me, so be it. But I won't compromise on this."
Thaddeus sighed, recognizing the resolve in Lenny's voice. "Very well, my lord. I'll instruct our merchants to adjust the prices accordingly and inform the public. This move will no doubt send ripples throughout the kingdom."
Lenny nodded. "Good. Let it be known that Rotengen stands for its people, not for the nobles who seek to profit from their suffering. The Snowveils may have their wealth, but they won't control Rotengen's future."
As Thaddeus left to carry out his orders, Lenny remained seated, staring into the flames in the hearth. The decision was a bold one, but necessary. The Snowveils' monopoly had strangled the kingdom for long enough. By breaking their hold, Lenny was not just providing for Rotengen—he was striking a blow against the power structures that had kept the common people underfoot.
He knew there would be consequences, but Lenny was prepared to face them. For Rotengen to thrive, he had to ensure that the city's resources were used for the good of all, not just the wealthy few.
The Snowveils might have been a dominant force in Obelia, but Lenny was determined to change the rules of the game. This was just the beginning.
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The cold wind howled through the barren landscape of the northwestern outskirts of Rotengen, a harsh reminder of the unforgiving climate that had long made this land inhospitable. The ground, once fertile, had been choked by frost and neglect, leaving nothing but a desolate stretch of frozen earth. But today, a profound change was underway—one that would transform this land from a wasteland to a source of hope.
High above, Martin flew effortlessly through the sky, his figure cutting a striking silhouette against the pale winter sun. The sensation of flying had become second nature to him, but today, his flight was driven by a purpose greater than himself. His gaze swept over the land below, taking in the extent of the damage and the promise of what could be.
As he hovered above the frozen terrain, Martin focused his mind and summoned his magical energies. With a precise and deliberate gesture, he began to channel his mana into the earth. The air around him shimmered with power as his magic worked to warm the cold soil and coax it back to life. Cracks appeared in the frost as the ground shifted and healed, revealing rich, fertile soil underneath.
Landing gracefully on the newly cultivated land, Martin drew a small pouch from his satchel, containing the enchanted seeds he had worked tirelessly to perfect. These weren't ordinary seeds; they were imbued with powerful magic, specifically designed to endure the harshest conditions. He named them Frostgrain a symbol of resilience in the face of adversity.
With careful precision, Martin scattered the Frostgrain seeds across the freshly prepared soil. Each seed was touched by his magic, causing them to glow softly as they settled into their new home. As soon as they were planted, the seeds began to respond to the nurturing touch of Martin's magic.
The process was rapid. Thanks to his acceleration magic, which hastened natural growth processes, the Frostgrain seeds started to sprout almost immediately spread over 30km. Within hours, the once-barren land began to show signs of life. Green shoots pierced through the soil, growing stronger and more robust with each passing minute.
Martin watched with a sense of pride as the field transformed. Normally, it would take Frostgrain two weeks to mature, but his magic had already sped up the process significantly. The transformation was nothing short of miraculous; the barren fields now teemed with vibrant green growth, defying the chilling air that still lingered.
"Wonderful" Martin said to himself, his voice carrying on the wind.
He looked out over the fields, the sight of flourishing crops filling him with a renewed sense of hope. The land that had once seemed lost was now a testament to the power of both magic and determination. Martin knew that this was just the beginning. The success of the Frostgrain would not only provide immediate relief but also serve as a cornerstone for his broader plans for Rotengen.
He turned his gaze skyward, contemplating the future. The path ahead would be fraught with challenges, but the potential to reshape the kingdom was within his grasp. His commitment to his people remained unwavering.
As he prepared to depart, Martin took one last look at the fields. In the next few months they would be a change of scenery.
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