RIVERWALL
Isaac made his way back from the giant piles of construction materials growing just outside the town's walls. Only the work on the road linking Riverwall to Bellharbour had begun, which meant that the staggering amount of resources pouring into the small town kept piling up.
And stacks of material meant misplacement, misuse and theft were just around the corner, waiting slither through the cracks of improper management to create chaos further down the line.
Just like dormant diseases. The only way to keep them at bay was vigilance and constant inventories. It wasn't getting him many friends with the labourers assigned to the task, but properly organized piles were more important than friendship.
One friend that his practice had netted him was the strange old man who had gifted him a wood chip at David's wedding. The slick-wrinkled old man had been spending an ever-increasing amount of time around the piles of stuff.
The old man had offered him praises for the piles' orderliness, hints and tips on how to properly organize them, and a daily ranking on which pile was the best. Isaac was pretty sure he'd seen the man whisper to the piles when he thought nobody was looking.
Pushing away the memory, he reviewed the latest inventory on his clipboard while he walked back to his assigned office at the town hall. There, a few clerks, managers and architects were finalizing the plans for the first infrastructure project; the railcar station and rail link to Bellharbour.
They were breaking ground in three days, and yet some of them were still arguing about the size and placement of everything.
His assistant had said she'd resolve the situation.
He was both curious about and dreading the solution he'd find waiting on his desk.
He stopped before reaching the west gate, looking up from his clipboard and surveying the mostly abandoned part of town. The remnants of a more prosperous time, when adventuring in the ruinlands to the north was seen as something more prestigious.
He let out a breath through his nose. While he fully knew that the “infrastructure project” had been put forth for the sole benefit of David and Niala, the ironic part was that... the town actually had potential.
Obviously, the soon-to-be mana crystal rush would kick everything into high gear, but if handled properly, the town could use it to grow a backbone of commerce. Something it could use to survive the all-too-common fall of miracle mining towns all over.
And, given the generous budget, labour and material stockpile assigned to the entire project, well... it would be kind of a waste not to build something for the future, wouldn't it?
He gave the decrepit buildings around him one last look before plunging back into the columns and rows of numbers on his notepad and resuming his trek toward the town hall.
He walked into an empty office, apart from his assistant, who was leaning over the large table on which they'd set up a model of the town and its surroundings. Shapes, flags and strings were strewn about it, representing buildings both current and projected.
Angeline looked up at him and smiled, which sent shivers running down his spine, his senses screaming at him to run away from the predator in front of him.
But Wardenfels did not run from danger. They confronted it. Even if they had cold sweat just from thinking about it.
He acknowledged her with the barest of nods, making his way to his desk when he took the time to properly file away the latest inventory report. Only then did he make his way over to the central table, sidling up next to his assistant, three paces away, and look over the town's model. He soon found what had changed, and grimaced.
Angeline smirked. “Why, hello to you too, my dear lord Isaac. I see you've noticed the group's solution to the rail station's placement.”
He glanced up at her before pointing at the “solution's” general direction with a hand. “This isn't a solution. It's a compromise.”
She blinked. “Is that not the same thing? What's wrong with the station's placement?”
He grunted. “It is not. A compromise is what huffed up tarts call a solution. It is more often than not short-sighted, wasteful, and made according to the wrong priorities. This,” He pointed at the station with his hand once more, “is all of those things.”
She narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms. “Could I bother you to explain in more detail? The staff all agreed that this size and position were adequate for current and future use, and central enough to serve the majority of the town without needing extensive road work.”
He rolled his eyes. “Oh, sure, it's adequate and central now. But, I would bet my family's autocarriage that nobody thought to extrapolate other factors. Like- there.” He pointed at the abandoned part of town to the west. “Once the mana crystal rush hits, those abandoned buildings won't remain so for long. What you consider the centre of town will shift.”
Angeline's eyes widened a little as she observed the town's model and where Isaac was pointing.”
He stepped closer to her, adding shapes and flags from a nearby table to add to the model, expanding the town into what he envisioned it becoming.
The “old town's” smaller roads soon became clogged with foot traffic flags, showing that any cargo would have a hard time flowing there. He pointed at it. “Any commerce in those areas will either be limited to smaller, local shops or relocate entirely. These lots, with the wider roads, will see their prices increase, which will push the residents out to the cheaper lots.”
He moved around and placed two railcar stations. A small one, near what he envisioned would become a purely residential district, within the walls, and a much bigger one in the west, outside of the current city limit.
He pointed at them in turn. “There. A small one for passenger railcars only, which will pass through the bigger, central station, where cargo will also be handled. Outside the walls, where there's plenty of currently unused space to build proper roads.”
He laid down a line of tracks further west, to the south. “And there, for the dock district.”
She quirked an eyebrow. “Dock district? The proposal doesn't mention any waterways.”
“Of course not, because it's shortsighted. But look-” He turned and retrieved a report from his desk, returning to the table and offering it to Angeline. “This is a topographical review of the southern river. There is a vast swampy area a few kilometres out of town, where the land is naturally lower. If we build a dam there.” He said, pointing at a spot downriver. “We can add locks, which would allow for large river barges or small trading ships to travel up and down the river, adding a commercial link. Having a dam would also help with irrigation of the farm lands in that direction, which is never a bad thing, especially considering the extra population will mean more food.”
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Before she could say anything, he went back to his desk, opened a drawer and picked up a file. He opened it, flipped to the page he wanted, and went back to Angeline, showing her rows of data. “This is my estimation of incoming and outgoing trade, based upon the region's natural resources. Lots of prime farmland to the west. Lots of timber just south of the river, and further up the river, a large marble deposit.”
He flipped the report to another page where a crude drawing of the land further east, up the river, resided. “And the prospecting team is quite adamant that this area should be rich with minerals, given the rocky terrain's composition and the traces they've found in the water.”
He turned back toward the town's model, surveying it. “The manacrystal rush will be a jump start, but the whole region has been sorely underutilized. I know the whole project was just meant to give my brother and your sister a comfier, more connected life, but there is real potential here. I've run the numbers. Everything stacks up.”
He looked at Angeline, his mouth opening to speak further, but he instead froze.
She had a warm smile splayed over her face as she stared at him, a twinkle in her eyes.
He blinked. “...Did I say something wrong?”
The question gave her pause, only for her smile to grow a bit wider. “No, nothing at all, lord Isaac. I am simply... awed by your urban planning acumen.”
“...Oh.”
She took a few steps toward him, bringing her close enough for her whisper to be heard. “And, truth be told, I do so ever enjoy listening to smart, competent men get lost in their own little world. I find that quite attractive.” She dropped, winking, before turning around and making her way out of the offices.
Isaac remained staring in the direction she had gone for several minutes, his cold sweats intermixing with an uncomfortable heat.
He didn't know if he should cry or scream.
Maybe both.
When Isaac came into the office the next day, he found the project's staff acting... strangely.
Before, they would argue with each other, offer dozens of suggestions and generally attempt to be right instead of being effective. As expected of professionals closely working with the rich and powerful, everyone wanted a patron, and this was a prime opportunity.
Now, today, they deferred to him for almost everything. Ideas, solutions, suggestions, it all began and ended with him. They still offered their opinions and expertise, which Isaac was more than happy to listen to. The experience of professionals was not to be dismissed out of hand, after all.
But he felt as if he was now in charge, without having to subtly threaten anyone each time.
Something had changed, and he had a pretty good idea of what it was. The look his assistant gave him when she walked into the office that morning told me he was right.
The Domina had laid down her law, and apparently, her law was “listen to my toy.”
Well, he could live with it, especially since it made his job easier.
Under his management, the planned development changed in scope and objective. What had been a superficial development of the town's infrastructure became a full, long-term economic expansion.
Roads would be widened and paved, commercial and industrial amenities were planned, future-proofing was built into every civil project, and incentives for the zones to develop appropriately were devised.
Plans were submitted to the Mayor, who mostly automatically approved everything, given who the backers were, and things were set into motion.
As the weeks advanced, Isaac lost himself to the planning and managing of the various projects around town. Reports were his entrees, charts and tables were his meals, and audits were his desserts. And he ate very well.
And, somehow, whenever an issue that was not logistical or numerical in nature cropped up, it seemed to resolve itself within a day at the most. Labour disputes, inter-departmental rivalry, inter-personal fights- they all disappeared, leaving the way clear for construction to proceed.
He knew, deep down, who was responsible.
He also realized, despite his wishes, that the one responsible had begun standing just a tiny bit closer to him, and getting closer day by day. He was like a frog being boiled, a death by a thousand tiny steps.
And, the very worst part, is that he found he didn't actually mind that much.
This was fun. He was having fun. Even the stress felt positive; something that pushed him forward, instead of crushing him under its weight.
And he knew, a good part of that fun was afforded to him because a certain someone was taking care of the annoying bits.
That aspect still gave him nightmares, because he would have to thank her at some point, and that prospect was terrifying.
With some luck, Niala and his brother would come back before honour required him to do so, and he could hide behind them as he did.
Yes, that seemed like the best way to approach this issue.
Angeline let everyone else stream out of the conference room. The guild representatives and worksite managers clumped at the door, eager to leave the temporary prison that had sucked seven bells out of their lives.
Under the guise of sorting her notes, she smiled at her latest accomplishment, holding the signed declarations in her hands. And people had said that getting these two groups to agree on something was impossible!
It always astonished her how little respect people gave to time. Sure, it was, in a way, a cruel master, indifferent and tyrannical, and people loved to harp about the inexorable passage of time.
But that's exactly what made it such a great tool. Get two groups of people who have a bone to pick, stick them in a room together, lock the door until they agree on something, and wait.
Eventually, their hate for each other would turn toward time, and they would find a common enemy.
And, in the end, they'd agree to just about anything so they could escape the room and the inexorable march of time. Things like working schedules and deliverables.
She stood up, stretching and popping her spine back into its proper shape. She guessed that was the disadvantage of using this tactic; she had to suffer through it as well. Of course, she had made sure there was a single comfortable chair in the room, and that it had been hers, but seven bells were seven bells.
Still! One more hurdle cleared! All so that her assistant's vision could proceed unimpeded. She smirked at the thought; Isaac's disapproval of her development plan had irked her more than she cared to admit, but only at first. As he explained his vision and ideas, she could do nothing but begin agreeing with him.
And so, she'd decided to let him run the planning side of the project. She'd do what she did best: get people to do what she wanted, which, in this case, was what Isaac wanted.
She picked up that thought, examining it in her mind as she made her way back to their shared office. She understood well enough that bowing to superior experience or talent was not a defeat, even if she was more than used to being the one with the hand on the rudder. Isaac was a special case, however.
She would be the first to admit that when they first met, she'd thought of him as nothing more than attractive entertainment. Something to occupy her during the lulls of her sister's wedding reception.
But there was something more to the man; under the usual noble bluster and polish hid a rarity: substance. And, after interacting with him further during this project, she'd seen something even more incredible, at least for a noble: compassion.
The man cared.
And what a pleasant surprise that had been!
But very interesting as well. And, dare she admit? Maybe even a bit enticing.
The tiniest of blushes coloured her cheeks as she opened the door to their office, her content smile growing a tiny bit wider as she found the subject of her thoughts at his desk.
Focused on reviewing plans, taking notes and referencing reports, he didn't even seem to register her presence. She walked to her desk, filed away the declarations, and made her way over to his workstation. She gently, silently, picked up his empty cup, went to refill it with fresh tea and deposited the cup back on his desk before making her way out.
A bit later, Isaac took a sip of his cup and confusedly tried to remember when he had refilled it.
To Angeline, Issac is...
