Promising

Rising with the dawn, Argon stretches out the stiffness from his limbs and looks around the room. Lyra and Saera, the two women who share his bed and look after his chambers, are already up, busily tidying up the room and preparing for the day ahead. They chatter among themselves as they usually do, but this morning, there is a certain hesitation, a certain curiosity that wasn't there before.

Finally, it is Saera who breaks the silence. "Who was she?" she asks, her voice soft and hesitant, her eyes revealing her curiosity. "The woman from last night..."

Argon raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. "A woman of importance," he replies cryptically, enjoying the intrigue. "Isolde, the Baron Eldrige's daughter."

The room falls silent, both Lyra and Saera gasping in surprise. To have such a noble guest was unexpected, and they share a look of astonishment before excitement takes over. The ladies continue their chores but with new vigour, their eyes alight with interest.

Their lord's entanglement with nobility is a clear sign of his rising status. The thought fills them with a sense of pride. Argon, for his part, takes their reaction in stride. He has more pressing matters to attend to. His days are filled with managing the village, ensuring its prosperity. Despite the noble guest and the curious gazes of Lyra and Saera, Argon remains focused on his plans, his mind occupied with the future of his village and his own ambitions.

Having dressed and refreshed himself, Argon makes his way downstairs to the dining hall. A hearty breakfast awaits him there – fresh bread, cheese, fruits, slices of ham, and some boiled eggs. He settles down at the head of the table, noting the entrance of Brolan, who joins him at the table.

Taking a bite from a particularly juicy apple, Argon inquired, "Where'd we get all of this?" waving his free hand to gesture at the abundance of food spread across the table.

Brolan chuckled, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he replied, "You didn't think we could survive off dried meats forever, did you? I bought a shit tonne of good food from Horntide. Didn't you see in the cart?"

Argon blinked, then shrugged, "Must've missed it." He said, popping the last bite of the apple into his mouth. Indeed, amidst all the events that had transpired, the sight of a cart filled with food supplies had been overlooked.

Brolan simply shook his head, grinning, "Well, make sure to not miss our meals, master. Especially now that we have a variety to choose from."

With a nod, Argon leaned back in his chair. He was glad for Brolan's foresight. Not only did it ensure they had a proper meal, but it was also a small step towards normalcy in Blackwood. A small comfort that went a long way in these turbulent times.

As he tucks into his meal, Argon begins to recount the events of the previous day. He informs Brolan about how he had met with Melvin and handed over the administrative duties of Blackwood to him.

"I put Melvin in charge," he says, punctuating his words with a mouthful of bread. "He will oversee everything. Mining, farming, defense... all the affairs of Blackwood. I told him it was his responsibility to keep things running smoothly."

Brolan looks at Argon, a hint of surprise in his eyes. But then, he shrugs and grins, "Always knew you had a knack for delegating, master. Melvin's a good choice. He knows Blackwood well. He has been living here his whole life."

Argon nods, satisfied with Brolan's approval. "Yes, and besides, we can't be bothered with every little detail. We have other matters to attend to." He finishes his breakfast, and for a moment, there is silence as both men are lost in their thoughts - thinking of the challenges and opportunities that lay ahead.

As the breakfast concludes, Argon leans back in his chair, his mind already planning the next course of action. The village is in good hands, and he has crucial matters to tend to and plans to set in motion. All while the thought of Isolde, his future wife, continues to linger at the back of his mind.

As they finished their meal, Argon's mind wandered back to his conversation with Isolde and the consequential proposal. Would Eldridge accept the marriage? The uncertainty of it gnawed at him.

Seeing Argon's thoughtful expression, Brolan asked, "Thinking about the Baron?"

Argon merely grunted, moving his attention to his mug of ale. After a moment, he looked up, his eyes meeting Brolan's. "Let's train," he declared, rising from his seat. Physical exertion would be a welcome distraction from his concerns.

Brolan immediately perked up at the mention of training. "Excellent," he said, draining the last of his drink and getting to his feet. Argon was a formidable warrior, and his friend appreciated any opportunity to spar with him. As they headed towards the training grounds, both of them hoped the physical distraction would help Argon focus his mind on the present rather than worrying about the future.

Argon and Brolan left the manor.

"Let's try out the new barracks, it's done right?" Argon asked, his eyes scanning over the new building.

Brolan gave the nod, "Pretty much," he replied, a sense of pride seeping into his voice. He had been overseeing the construction and was quite pleased with the results. "Still a few tweaks to be made, but it's functional."

"Perfect," Argon replied, quickening his pace. A good training session in the new barracks was exactly what he needed to distract his mind from the worries that clouded it.

Striding towards the newly constructed barracks. The sun was just rising, casting a warm glow on the imposing structure. The barracks were almost finished, with the final touches being applied. It was larger and sturdier than their previous quarters, built to house a more formidable force.

The atmosphere in the new barracks shifted dramatically as Argon and Brolan strode in, their presence demanding immediate attention. The soldiers, in the middle of their drills, instantly paused and stepped aside, their eyes wide with a mix of respect and awe.

Both leaders unsheathed their artefacts, their movements slow and deliberate. Argon's weapon was a magnificent broadsword that shimmered with mesmerising green light. Brolan's artefact, also a sword, radiated a cool blue hue. These ancient, powerful weapons carried an aura of threat and raw power that was tangible in the silence of the room.

Without a word, Argon and Brolan started their sparring session. The soldiers could only watch in astonishment as their leaders moved with breathtaking speed and precision. The clashes of the artefact-imbued swords sent a chilling energy pulsating through the air, each impact a testament to the deadly strength and skill of the warriors.

Brom, a seasoned warrior in his own right, watched with undisguised awe and a flicker of fear. The ferocious power that Argon and Brolan demonstrated was a stark reminder of their superhuman capabilities. The soldiers, armed with their conventional training swords, felt their weapons were mere child's play in comparison.

The sound of the artefacts clashing reverberated through the barracks, an echoing testament to the formidable power that lay in the hands of Blackwood's leaders. Their exhibition had a profound effect on the soldiers - a stark demonstration of the extraordinary power an artefact conferred to its wielder.

The sparring session continued for what felt like an eternity, the two warriors locked in an impressive display of strength and finesse. Beads of sweat trickled down their faces, but their focus never wavered; their movements never slowed. The clash of swords and the occasional grunt of exertion was the only sound breaking the heavy silence in the room.

Finally, Argon landed a solid hit on Brolan's shoulder, knocking him back a step. Brolan grinned and nodded, acknowledging the hit but refusing to accept defeat. They returned to their battle, but now the other soldiers began to understand their role in this spectacle. This wasn't just a demonstration of power – it was a lesson, a reminder of what it meant to hold an artefact and the overwhelming responsibility that came with it.

The day continued with the men following their usual training routine, but the atmosphere had changed. A newfound respect for their leaders filled their hearts, but so did a hint of fear. The awe-inspiring display had revealed just how wide the gap was between them and their superiors.

In the days that followed, there was a renewed vigour among the troops. Their training took on a newfound seriousness, each man aiming to get closer to the prowess exhibited by their leaders. The image of Argon and Brolan sparring with their artefacts was etched deep into their minds, becoming both a source of inspiration and a reminder of the path they had chosen to tread.

Argon settles into a new routine. Each evening, he convenes a meeting with Brolan, Melvin, Edrik, and Brom to discuss the day's events and the ongoing projects within Blackwood.

The new defences have made a significant difference to the security of the village. The village walls, previously low and easy to scale, are now formidable, rising tall and stout, topped with a sturdy platform for archers. The defensive potential of Blackwood has drastically increased, a fact that gives Argon a certain satisfaction.

The mine, too, is bustling with activity. The workers are making headway, expanding the mine further into the hillside, and the yield of hematite is steadily increasing. Argon could see the wealth it could bring Blackwood.

His force of soldiers has expanded significantly, now standing at 36 strong. Made up of survivors from Oakheart, slaves from Oakheart and slaves bought by Brolan and Melvin who've been trained by Brom, they've begun regular patrols around the village and its surroundings. It's a crude force, but a force nonetheless.

Argon also sees progress in the fields around the village. The crops are flourishing, having benefited from the end of the drought. Melvin, with his knack for management, has arranged lease agreements with several villagers. They now farm the land, providing a sustainable food source for the community and also promising a modest income from the sale of excess produce.

Through rigorous work and planning, Argon sees the shape of a stronger, wealthier Blackwood emerging. It's still in its infancy, but the seeds of future prosperity have been sown.

Despite the progress in Blackwood, an undercurrent of anxiety gnaws at Argon. The expected message from Baron Eldrige remains notably absent, a silence that weighs heavily on his mind. It's a sign that can be interpreted in numerous ways, none of them particularly comforting.

To distract himself from these gnawing thoughts, Argon seeks solace in the company of Lyra and Saera. The pleasures they offer provide a welcome respite, a momentary escape from the burden of leadership and the worries of potential conflict. The nights spent with them are a comforting routine, offering a release from the pressures of his new responsibilities.

Yet, even in these moments of intimacy, the unanswered question hangs in the air - what will Eldrige's response be? Argon can only wait, keep improving Blackwood, and hope that his gamble pays off.