The morning sun barely touched the hills when I convened the council in my chamber. Garreth, Oswin, and a handful of key townsmen gathered around the maps spread across the table. Parchments marked fields, forests, and potential mines, while pins denoted critical locations.
"Listen carefully," I began. "I have assigned our people according to immediate necessity. 40% will focus on farming (mostly women and elder children)." I paused, letting the number sink in. "Yes, fewer than usual. Typically, 60% work the fields, but harsh winters and scarce manpower force adaptation."
Garreth frowned. "Forty percent? Will that be enough?"
"Not alone," I replied. "Women and older children will assist. Fields were ploughed last year for spring, so heavy labor isn't required. Their help with sowing, irrigation, and miscellaneous tasks will increase productivity. I have also brought oxen and draft animals to reduce human strain."
I gestured to the map. "30% of the population will focus on mining—stone, brick, lime, coal, and wooden planks whereas 10% are tasked with making clay plates. Ten men are assigned to scout new resources, while the rest 20% maintain existing operations. Iron is important for trade, yes, but we will prioritize survival and construction first. I have a plan for iron, but not yet."
Oswin nodded slowly. Garreth remained skeptical. "Iron is critical, my lord. If we ignore it—"
"Patience," I interrupted gently. "We survive first; trade follows. Efficiency now ensures wealth later."
The remaining villagers were assigned to usual tasks: weaving, carpentry, tanneries, and a hunting party in the mountains—roughly 10% of the population. Others tended livestock, cleaned communal areas, or assisted wherever needed.
Later, I walked through the fields, watching the farmers sow seeds. The rhythm of their work reminded me of the future I envisioned. If I push them slightly, to grow more weeds for animals.
"Increase spacing slightly," I instructed. "Rotate crops. Layer fields. Fertilize with compost (dung and waste). Use water efficiently. We need maximum growth, without exhausting the soil."
The farmers blinked at me, wondering the use of waste and dung by my suggestions. I saw understanding dawn in their eyes. They trust me… for now. I must not fail them.
Next, I visited the mines. Stone and lime were extracted steadily, and planks were cut from felled trees. I inspected workers for efficiency and safety. Then I turned to livestock. Distribution would strengthen food security and agricultural support:
Chickens: 50 female, 5 maleGoats: 150 female, 20 maleSheep: 120 female, 18 maleCows: 20 female, 10 male
I also released 15 horses from my personal guard's stables to aid in transport and plowing and some tools for farming and mining. Villagers received them with gratitude, understanding they were not gifts but tools for survival.
For 15 days, life in the town settled into rhythm. Farmers worked the fields, hunters roamed the mountains, miners explored quarries, and craftsmen tended to their trades. Each evening, I reviewed the employment board, adjusting tasks for efficiency and balancing workloads.
But my mind never rested. At night, I focused on a critical problem: I needed nitrates. Drawing from modern knowledge, I analyzed soil types, geological features, and historical patterns. Regions rich in limestone, near dry riverbeds or chalky outcrops, often contained nitrate deposits.
I overlaid these markers on our terrain maps, approximating likely deposits. Then I tasked a small scouting team to test soil systematically: northern cliffs, river valleys, and old stream beds. White crusts, texture, and soil chemistry were all indicators.
Late one night, I spotted a promising site near the northern cliffs, where limestone veins met dry riverbeds. Rugged but accessible. I marked it for immediate exploration.
Meanwhile, I observed villagers. Children helped mothers in the fields, women aided in weaving and tanneries, and older boys assisted hunters and miners. Efficiency rose. Productivity increased. The town's rhythm was steady, even if small setbacks occurred.
As I walked through the granary and fields, I reflected. Patience, Leonard. Survival first. Luxury later. Bread, not wine. Fields, not feasts. Nitrate will be our secret weapon, and when harvest comes, Orshek will thrive.
I returned to the chamber to review the employment board and resources. Each day I added adjustments—reassigning a mason here, a carpenter there, sending a hunter to assist livestock management. Efficiency depended on oversight, foresight, and discipline. At night I talked with Natalia to know more about her power. She had a very elegant beauty in her… voice soft, fumble calm. As I got closer to her, I explained to her many concepts about plants and their growth unknown in this world and practiced her power in the dark. With time her power started becoming stronger. I noted every little detail in my diary and online file.
By the end of the 15th day, progress was visible. Fields looked denser, storage was orderly, livestock was thriving, and the mines were mapped systematically. The town had begun to move as a unit, under my guidance, each person a cog in the larger wheel of survival. Food ever given equally to all.
Yet even as I supervised, a small voice in my head reminded me: This is temporary. I act as an imperialist, not a tyrant, until survival is secured. After that… tables will overflow, wine will flow, and the feast I desire will return. But for now, every action must serve the people, every decision must preserve life.
This is leadership, I thought, watching the sun dip behind the mountains. Measured, calculated, often lonely. But necessary. Orshek will not fail—not under my hand.