Industrial Development and Intelligence Network

Gretka's first morning at the manor was awakened by the scent of herbs, a fresh, bitter fragrance mingled with earth and dew.

She climbed down from the plank bed in her temporary quarters and stepped barefoot onto the stone floor. The sun had not fully risen, but people were already moving about near the herb garden.

Aina crouched at the edge of the herb garden, pinching a Hundred-Remedy Herb leaf between her fingers and turning it over to inspect its underside. Gretka walked over and stopped beside her, clasping both hands behind her back as she craned her neck to look. She did not recognize that kind of leaf.

Aina looked up, plucked one off, and held it beneath Gretka's nose. "Smell it." Gretka cautiously leaned closer and took a sniff, getting droplets of water on the tip of her nose. Then she threw back her head and giggled. She could not describe the scent, but she liked it.

Ron stood outside the herb garden's low stone wall and did not go in. He saw Gretka crouching beside Aina, already learning how to pluck Hundred-Remedy Herb leaves from their stems. Her attempts were clumsy and crooked, but Aina did not correct her.

The girl with little braids ran over from the direction of the church. She crouched beside Gretka and watched for a while, then picked up a fallen white celandine flower from the ground and stuffed it into her hand.

Ron watched for a while before turning toward the courtyard. Erwin was already waiting for him beside a low table, holding a clay cup whose water had gone cold.

Erwin opened his ledger. Rather than reading through it item by item as before, he pulled several folded sheets from the leather pouch at his waist and spread them flat.

A simple map of the manor had been drawn on the paper. The river, canals, completed training ground, and walls were all marked in charcoal. Several locations had been circled with brief notes beside them. He pushed the paper toward Ron.

"Brewery." Erwin's finger landed on a marked spot near the river.

"Our current grain harvest leaves us with a surplus after food and seed reserves. That surplus can be used to brew ale.

"The swamp also has plenty of wild fruit. Raspberries, blackberries, and juniper berries are everywhere this season. They can be gathered to make fruit wine."

His finger traced a small circle on the map.

"Velen has no decent local breweries. Wine shipped from Novigrad can fetch a high price at Crow's Nest. If we make our own, labor will be the main cost, and the initial investment will be low."

Ron nodded. Erwin turned to the next page. "Paper mill. Velen has no local source of paper. All paper depends on imports from Novigrad."

He set a copied procurement list in front of Ron. One line marked the price of their last paper purchase, with an exclamation mark after the figure.

"The raw materials are rags, hemp rope, old cloth, and reeds. Reeds are everywhere along the swamp, and the surrounding villages provide a steady source of waste material. The cost is practically zero.

"All we need is labor and soaking pools. The output can supply our clerical work, Aina's teaching, and correspondence with the Baron and other lords."

"Does the swamp have any other usable resources?" Ron asked.

"Swamp peat." Erwin's finger traced a line across the map toward the marshland south of the manor.

"Peat burns longer than firewood and can be used as fuel for forging furnaces. However, witches and foglets roam deeper in the swamp, so harvesting can only be done within designated safe zones.

"Peat extraction can also help dredge and drain the marsh, improving it into usable land while producing byproducts such as animal feed."

He paused and adjusted his glasses.

"Local knowledge sets the safe boundaries according to the experience passed down by nearby elders. The swamp mist disperses before noon.

"Only then is it safe to enter the outer edges. Old Gott can lead the militia in trial harvesting within the safe zone."

Ron committed it all to memory and waited for Erwin to continue.

"Then there is trade and the trade routes." Erwin turned to the next page, which was densely covered in writing.

"The frequency of trade between the surrounding villages and the manor is increasing. In the past week alone, at least five groups of traveling merchants came to us on their own. We did not send anyone to call for them.

"They came because our patrols regularly clear drowners and bandits from the main trade routes. The results came faster than expected."

His finger lightly tapped the table. "Villagers have already begun using the trade routes to exchange grain and sell cattle and sheep."

"We can cultivate informants and establish our own intelligence network," Ron said.

"We are already doing so. We have reached long-term trade agreements with three villages. We provide regular weapon maintenance and patrol protection in exchange for food, livestock, and firsthand intelligence."

Erwin tapped his ledger. "Each village has a designated contact, usually an elder or a villager with relatives at the manor. They receive regular payment."

Erwin pulled a smaller slip of paper from beneath the ledger. Several notes were written on it.

"Regarding currency, commoners mainly use Oren and copper coins for daily transactions. Crowns are rarely seen. Therefore, we pay Oren for the grain and supplies we collect, and patrol agreements are settled in Oren as well."

He unfolded a sheet of paper with several conversion formulas written on it. "At the current exchange rate, one Crown equals one hundred copper coins, or roughly eleven Oren. The Oren has depreciated severely since Temeria fell, but it remains Velen's primary circulating currency.

"The villagers have all confirmed this rate. Daily purchases and patrol subsidies are calculated in Oren, while Crowns and Florins are kept as reserve currencies for major transactions."

Ron picked up the paper and gave it a quick glance. "Fine. What about horses?"

"After taking stock, we have six military horses captured from Nilfgaard, four gifted by the Baron, and fourteen that already belonged to the manor.

"With four more acquired through village trade, the total is twenty-eight. This does not include the Calradic Empire warhorses ridden by the armored cavalry."

Erwin turned the page. "A few are geldings, but at least three mares can serve as the foundation for breeding. There is an unused pasture east of the manor that can be converted into a small breeding ground.

"We can select and purchase suitable mares from villages with which we have established trade relations. There are also wild horse herds in Velen. They are said to occasionally appear near the edge of the swamp. It is only a rumor for now, but we can send people to investigate."

Ron ran the numbers through his mind. "Riding horses, not warhorses."

"Correct. Warhorses are tightly controlled, and their price makes them unsuitable for purchase at this stage. We should first gather enough riding horses to form a mounted unit, sufficient for patrols and delivering messages."

"Intelligence network." Erwin closed his ledger and pulled another folded piece of parchment from his coat. It bore scattered place names and personal names.

"The contacts in the three villages have been confirmed. Lindenvale's elder will have someone bring word to the manor every Wednesday. Midcopse's contact passes information through the weekly market.

"The contact in the third village is the village chief himself. His daughter married into our manor. That line is the most stable and delivers information the fastest."

"Anything worth noting?"

"Last month, a merchant caravan came from the direction of Novigrad. When it passed Lindenvale, it was questioned by an unidentified armed group. They did not take anything.

"They merely asked questions—whether there were any troops stationed nearby, and whether the Baron had recently sent out patrols."

He pushed the parchment toward Ron.

"These people were not bandits. Bandits do not question people; they rob them outright. We suspect they are scouts on Nilfgaard's outskirts, or men working for its quartermasters, surveying Velen again.

"The elder of Lindenvale did not learn that the caravan had been questioned until afterward. Several days later, he sent his son with the message. The information came too late. That needs improvement."

"Keep tracking this."

"Already underway." Erwin nodded.