"Spring is here! How's the preparation for farming tools coming along?" Rynar turned to Caslow and asked.
"Understood, my lord." Caslow nodded.
After all, spring planting was about to begin, and if the farming tools didn't reach the hands of the people in time, it would greatly affect the harvest.
Rynar absolutely didn't want to endure another season of chewing on hard black bread. The memory of food shortages was a nightmare he didn't want to revisit.
"Make sure to distribute the tools properly! Inform all blacksmiths to prioritize making hoes and other essential farming equipment immediately!" Rynar ordered firmly.
"Understood!" Caslow responded promptly and left the tent.
"Guards!" Rynar called after a moment of thought.
"What are your orders, Your Majesty?" A ranger clad in chainmail from Lordaeron stepped in.
"Prepare my horse! Gather the royal guards and knights. We're heading to the fields for an inspection!" Rynar declared. He wanted to personally ensure that no details were overlooked.
"As you command, Your Majesty!" The ranger nodded respectfully and exited quickly.
"Your Majesty, what brings you here?" Reynard asked curiously as they rode north of Riverguard, about 5 kilometers away.
"I can't rest easy. I need to see for myself. If there's any problem with the spring planting this year... Riverguard will be in deep trouble!" Rynar sighed in frustration.
"What could go wrong? The orcs can no longer muster large-scale invasions! The occasional stray orc can be dealt with by the peasants wielding pitchforks!" Reynard chuckled.
The situation in Riverguard was stable now. To the north, the Lonely Mountain served as a formidable shield.
To the west, the River Running acted as a natural barrier alongside King Aranthor's Loshanier City.
In the east, the centaur lord Bardel held back threats from Tupet Forest.
The only conceivable threat could come from the south, but Riverguard's forces were sufficient to repel most invaders—unless an army of tens of thousands surrounded the city.
Even then, Rynar would still have a fighting chance.
"This year will be tough for us! Apart from the soldiers who must remain on duty, everyone else will need to join the spring planting. We're racing against time!" Rynar lamented.
Time was their greatest enemy now.
To sustain Riverguard's population of nearly 5,000, they needed to cultivate at least 20,000 acres of farmland, assuming each person could be supported by four acres.
This didn't even account for the land needed for vegetables!
Unfortunately, the system hadn't provided seeds for high-yield crops, so they were stuck with Middle-earth's ordinary crop yields.
"Phew!"
Reynard took a sharp breath, finally realizing how dire the situation was. Riverguard was starting from scratch, with no reserves to rely on.
This spring planting wasn't just for survival; it was also to stockpile food for future needs, making the workload even more overwhelming.
Clearing so much land in such a short time felt impossible.
"Maybe we could melt down some weapons to make hoes..." Reynard suggested, though he knew it sounded absurd.
Even with two blacksmith shops working around the clock, they could only produce a few hundred tools, a mere drop in the ocean compared to the actual need.
"Absolutely not!" Rynar's glare could have burned through steel. "Melt down weapons? Do you want us to fistfight our enemies?!"
"I'll go talk to Thorin. It seems we'll need to rely on the dwarves again," Rynar sighed helplessly.
While the Zaltarion army had aided the dwarves of Erebor in the past, Rynar felt guilty asking for yet another favor.
Thorin might have been portrayed as a bit thickheaded in the movies, but in this world, he had been nothing but generous and reliable to Rynar.
"Send someone to Erebor to order 2,000 hoes!" Rynar finally decided, clutching his forehead in resignation. The gap in resources was simply too vast.
Depending solely on Riverguard's blacksmiths would leave them starving this year.
"And take these gold coins with you! Don't go empty-handed!" Rynar retrieved a large chest of gold and silver from his system inventory with a pained expression, handing it to Reynard.
"As you command!" Reynard acknowledged, turning his horse to delegate the task. He selected a few men, gave them instructions, and sent them off with the chest of gold to Erebor.
"Is the message delivered?" Rynar asked when Reynard returned swiftly.
"Yes, everything is in order," Reynard confirmed.
"By the way, do we have any carpenters?" Rynar suddenly asked.
"Hmm... not really!" Reynard scratched his head after some thought. Skilled craftsmen in Riverguard were scarce, and he couldn't recall any carpenters among the few artisans they had.
"This is troublesome!" Rynar muttered, rubbing his temples.
Recently, he had found a "legendary" blueprint among the odds and ends provided by the system—a design for the curved plow!
"This tool can make farming more efficient and significantly boost crop yields!"
Rynar announced proudly.
"Wait, is it some kind of magical artifact?" Reynard squinted at the blueprint, utterly baffled.
"My lord!" Caslow's voice rang out in the distance, arriving before the man himself.
"What now? Why are you shouting?" Rynar shot him a glare, nearly falling off his horse from the sudden noise. Didn't this man know not to interrupt someone deep in thought?
"If you don't have a good explanation, you're in trouble!" Rynar's irritation grew.
"Uh, my lord, we have a huge shortage of farming tools. At least three-quarters of the people don't have the equipment they need to farm, let alone the soldiers," Caslow reported, frowning deeply.
"I know, I've already placed an order with Erebor!" Rynar groaned in frustration, sounding like a defeated man.
"What's wrong?" Caslow whispered to Reynard, alarmed by the sheer despondency on Rynar's face.
"Well..." Reynard smirked and whispered back, "His Majesty just emptied his savings to buy those tools. He's probably mourning his wallet right now."
Rynar, riding ahead with a distant look in his eyes, seemed utterly crushed. Reynard shrugged helplessly.
As one of Rynar's earliest followers, Reynard understood his lord's quirks well.
While Rynar wasn't stingy, he did have a soft spot for hoarding wealth. Ever since his fortune had dwindled to almost nothing, he had stopped browsing the system shop.
Everything there looked enticing, but his empty pockets forbade indulgence. Just as he had managed to save a little, spring planting wiped it all out.
"So tragic..." Caslow shook his head sympathetically. He had witnessed Rynar's relentless efforts to amass gold and silver, scavenging from orc corpses for months.
And now, it was all gone in an instant, leaving him back at square one.
A light spring rain began to fall, its gentle drops pattering on the ground. Rynar instinctively extended his hand, watching the playful raindrops dance on his palm.
"Spring is here! Let those who already have tools begin clearing the land!" Rynar looked up at the sky. The rain was light, making it an excellent day for work.
"Perhaps it's better to wait, Your Majesty. If the peasants get soaked and fall ill, it could lead to an outbreak of disease," Reynard cautioned.
Middle-earth's medical capabilities were rudimentary at best, and even a simple flu could spiral into a deadly epidemic. There was no need to risk it for a single day's work.
"You're right. Let's wait for the snow to melt a bit more," Rynar agreed, glancing at the patches of lingering snow scattered across the land.
"Let's head back! It's freezing!" A gust of biting wind seeped through Rynar's clothes, sending a shiver down his spine.
With that, the group turned their horses and made their way back to the city.
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