Alone, Richart suffers yet another coughing fit.
A lengthy one.
4th Fire, 1900
Ravenkeep, Forestwatch Region, Eastern Estphal
There's gathering of important Ravenkeep servants and retainers at Richart's study...
Someone above hammers at the roof, and outside the door, a broom in hands of a maid makes noise, sweeping dust from the floor. Richart experiences a coughing fit, that leaves him breathless for a while. He reaches for the cup of watered down wine offered to him by Merewin, and drinks from it.
"Now... Meinhart. I asked you two days ago about workers and people from the village willing to do heavy labor." The burly, brown-haired man grunts and nods his head.
"Yes m'lord. There's about half a dozen unskilled laborers that itch for something to do. A few others could be pushed into it, but they would grumble about having to leave their fields and homes." "I see. Half a dozen is less than I expected, much less." Lord Ravenkeep twiddles his thumbs before coughing again.
"What do you need so many laborers for?" "When I spoke with Orwin, he mentioned a mine in the north and a lumber camp in the east. I want to restore these places... villagers being employed is one thing, but having timber or ores could provide a source of income besides taxes. But, there's monsters to take into account..." Richart experiences another coughing fit, and so Meinhart turns to the gathered.
"The Lamia in the forest has came many years ago. She is big, ugly, and ravenous, but fortunately she made her nest in the ruins of an old watchtower, so far away she has yet to show her ugly head in the village... now, the giant spiders, the Baels, they were discovered last summer by some folk who wanted to get some ores from the tunnels." "How many spiders are we talking about...?" "At least several. If they made a nest in there, surely they are able to breed." "Markus, you and Merewin will lead the rest against the monsters." Richart has a coughing fit, again.
"Both places, at once?" "No. We don't have enough labor to maintain both in the same time. At least not now. Hartman, you've been in nearby villages. You think there is labor to be found nearby?"
"Sir. I've seen a few... bums in Oxslope. Farmhands with too much time on their hands in Hardoven. Laborers they could make, but unskilled ones." "Still, that's better than no laborers at all. Next time you will be on errands there, ask a few people if they would fancy some work." "Of course, sir, I will do that." Well, Markus." Richart turns to look at his old friend.
"What do you fancy more, old friend? A den of spiders or a fierce snake-woman? Or rather, what do you think you and others can deal with today?" "Whichever your choice, noble sir, I offer to lead the way. At least, until a certain distance. I'm an innkeeper, not a fighter."
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