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He blamed that stable boy and even his own niece for missing out on a golden opportunity. If only the two houses could have come together, House Glover could have reaped rewards beyond imagination.
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After the grand celebration had concluded its fanfare, the time for serious discussion arrived in the form of a grand meeting. One side wanted people and the other side wanted shelter and both happily agreed. Without any surprise, a harmonious consensus was reached between the clans and Bear Island.
Both parties saw the merit in each other's strengths, and a plan was forged that would see the island welcoming new inhabitants while also improving the quality of life for its existing residents.
Adding to the positive momentum, mountain lords also agreed to send their firstborn heirs, the future chiefs of their respective clans, to Bear Island. These young leaders-to-be were to receive education in Newton schools, which solidified the ties between the clans and the island while promising a brighter future for all involved.
In pursuit of bolstering their economic foundations, the clans engaged in multiple trade treaties, cementing not only their economic relationships but also their friendships.
Among those involved was Lord Glover, who, despite recognizing the immense business potential, held a deep-seated aversion to trade. This reluctance, however, did not extend to the Wolfswood clans, who were enthusiastic about sealing these trade pacts.
The intricate negotiations and arrangements spanned the better part of a week before culminating in yet another lavish celebration to commemorate the successful outcome of these efforts.
Amidst the atmosphere of triumph and festivity, Lady Mormont's concerns could not be assuaged. Turning to her nephew Jorah, she voiced her apprehensions, "Jorah, the expenses incurred during these celebrations seem extravagant. Can our coffers bear this burden?"
With a calm demeanour, Jorah reassured his aunt, "Aunt, while the figures on paper might appear daunting, the treaties we've forged will enable us to procure vital resources at more favourable prices. The subsequent increase in our trade volume will ensure that this initial expenditure is merely an investment and not a loss."
Jorah presented a set of documents meticulously outlining the gains from the agreements – an array of fruits, wines, furs, and tools. Though the costs seemed staggering, Jorah's conviction lay in the understanding that this spending was a necessary means to a profitable end.
Winning Lady Mormont over proved to be an arduous task for Jorah, as he delved into the intricacies of trade and investments that were foreign concepts to the realm of Westeros. Yet, despite the unfamiliarity, his aunt gradually began to grasp the underlying wisdom.
A fortnight later, the Wolfswood clans commenced delivering their promised supplies – meat, timber, furs – each shipment a testament to the newfound alliance. Five weeks thereafter, emissaries from the mountain clans arrived, bearing with them an array of goods that showcased the unique offerings of their territories.
With meticulous attention, Jorah and Lady Mormont oversaw the trade interactions, their concerns largely proven unwarranted as the exchanges unfolded smoothly. Ser Gibbs, attuned to the significance of the moment, worked tirelessly to ensure the seamless execution of the arrangements.
Bear Island's transformation was now underway in earnest. Weekly voyages of trade ships commenced, while longboats ferried supplies from the Sea Dragon Point. The island, once forsaken, had turned into a treasure trove replete with meat, furs, and pine trees. The calm and extensive coastline facilitated docking, marking an era of increased maritime activity.
As autumn ceded to winter, soldiers returned from the Wall, escorting a procession laden with logs harvested from the Frozen Shore. These logs would be instrumental in advancing the shipbuilding efforts on Bear Island. With additional labour on hand, ship construction accelerated, with emphasis shifting toward crafting formidable war galleys.
Engaged in overseeing the shipyard, Jorah turned to Master Tumbor, the shipbuilding overseer, "Master Tumbor, do you have confidence in the abilities of these men?"
With conviction, Master Tumbor replied, "My Lord, their progress has exceeded expectations. The water mills shoulder much of the labour, and the workers, organized in teams, ensure efficient execution. I dare say we shall possess a fleet of war galleys in no more than three years."
Jorah expressed his trust, "Master Tumbor, I have faith both in your guidance and the prowess of the men you've trained." With those words, he departed the bustling workshop.
In the wake of these advancements, Jorah found himself grappling with monotony. Administrative duties followed a script, and matters related to military training were overseen by Stephen, Great Walrus, and Gobin, who rotated the men in training batches to mitigate isolation on the Frozen Shore and the Sea Dragon Point.
Yet, a lingering worry persisted, stemming from the rapid expansion of the fishing villages along the Stony Shore. Jorah, a pragmatist, was under no illusion that the current peaceful coexistence would endure indefinitely. The Ironborn's penchant for raiding and reaving was ingrained, a ticking clock of the calm before the storm.
As Bear Island flourished and extended its influence across new horizons, similar winds of transformation swept through the Iron Islands. Balon Greyjoy, eyeing consolidation, had repurposed the labour of thralls and salt-wives to construct and repair boats, bolstering his naval strength in anticipation of the challenges ahead.
The waters surrounding Fair Isle, the Shield Islands, and the Arbor bore witness to the increasing activity of these reavers-turned-shipwrights.
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Amid the ordinary rhythm of life on Bear Island, a raven bearing the seal of the Citadel disrupted the tranquillity. Maester Allen hastened to present the message to Jorah, his demeanour agitated.
"Maester, your haste suggests important tidings," Jorah remarked as he received the letter.
Maester Allen's excitement was palpable as he replied, "Indeed, my Lord."
Jorah broke the seal and swiftly perused the contents, his expression pensive. "It appears a contingent of Maesters is en route from the Citadel to inspect our book-printing workshop, Maester Allen. Based on the timing indicated, their ships should arrive in due course."
Maester Allen scrutinized the letter repeatedly, vigilant for hidden meanings. "Shall we prepare a formal reception for their arrival, my Lord?"
Jorah nodded, resolute. "Certainly, we shall extend our hospitality. Regardless of intent, they are our guests and must be treated as such."
With over a year of operation, the book-printing workshop had settled into a rhythm, its inner workings familiar to those engaged in its activities. Jorah's concern, however, extended beyond the workshop's functioning – he yearned for the acquisition of knowledge that could revolutionize the island's growth, encompassing everything from farming techniques to armour crafting.
Reincarnation doesn't come with some encyclopedia of all knowledge, and he barely has any useful information that can be used in this medieval-magical world.
Jorah hoped this upcoming visit of Maesters might bring some benefit to the Island.
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