"My Lord, the smith from the village... Old Hareth... he is asking for clay," Varrick said, wringing his hands as he followed Ronan through the castle corridors. "And bricks. A lot of bricks."
Ronan didn't stop walking. He was carrying a roll of parchment—plans for the new plumbing system. "Let me guess. Hareth saw the Blast Furnace. Now he wants to build his own?"
"Yes, my Lord. He says if a boy can melt rock, a master smith can do it better. He has gathered men. They are building a tower near the East Gate."
Varrick lowered his voice. "Should we stop him? Arrest him for... theft of secrets?"
Ronan stopped. He smiled, but it wasn't a nice smile. "No. Give him the clay. Give him the bricks. In fact, give him a barrel of our worst iron ore."
"My Lord?" Varrick was confused. "You want him to copy us?"
"I want him to learn a lesson," Ronan said. "He thinks the magic is in the shape of the tower. He doesn't know about the limestone flux. He doesn't know about the air pressure. Let him build it. When it produces nothing but slag and toxic smoke, the entire region will know: Only Blackwood can tame the iron."
Ronan turned a corner and entered the Lord's Solar. It was a freezing, drafty room with a bucket in the corner for "necessities."
"This ends today," Ronan said, kicking the bucket. "If Wynafryd Manderly is coming, she is not using a bucket."
He unrolled the parchment on the table.
[Blueprint: Hypocaust Heating & Gravity Plumbing]
• Components: Cast Iron Pipes, Boiler (Copper/Iron), Raised Floor.
• Effect: Indoor hot water. Central heating.
• Luxury Level: +50.
"We are gutting the guest wing," Ronan announced. "Kennos is casting the pipes now. I need you to get the masons. We are raising the floors by two feet. We will run hot air under the stone. And we are building a bathing room with piped hot water."
Varrick stared at the plans. "Hot water... coming out of the wall? Like a spring?"
"Better than a spring. Controlled," Ronan said. "The Manderlys are rich. They have gold, spices, and silks. But they freeze in winter just like us. When Wynafryd feels a warm floor beneath her feet while it snows outside... she will realize that gold cannot buy what I have."
Three Days Later
A dull BOOM echoed across the valley.
It came from the village, near the East Gate. A plume of black, acrid smoke rose into the sky.
Ronan was on the roof of the keep, supervising the installation of the water tank. He didn't even flinch.
Varrick ran up the stairs, breathless. "My Lord! Hareth's tower! It... it burped! Fire shot out the top! The structure collapsed!"
"Is anyone dead?" Ronan asked, tightening a bolt on the water valve.
"No, my Lord. Singed eyebrows, a broken leg. But the furnace is a ruin. And the iron inside... it's just a lump of useless, brittle crud. Hareth is weeping. He says the Gods have cursed him."
"Not the Gods," Ronan said, turning to look at the smoke. "Chemistry."
He looked at Varrick. "Now, go down there. Tell Hareth that if he wants to smelt iron, he works for me, on my machines, following my instructions. If he tries to freelance again, I won't give him the bricks next time."
[Authority Established]
[Rumor Spread: Lord Ronan is a Sorcerer / The Blackwood Tech cannot be copied.]**
Ronan returned to his work. The pipes were laid. The boiler—a reinforced iron drum sitting over a dedicated coal fire in the cellar—was ready.
"Open the valve," Ronan ordered the apprentice.
There was a gurgle, a clang of metal expanding, and then a steady hiss.
Ronan walked into the newly renovated guest suite. The floor was made of smooth slate. He took off his boot and stepped onto it.
It was warm.
Radiant heat. The smoke and hot air from the boiler were channeling through the hollow space under the floor before venting out the chimney. The stone absorbed the heat and radiated it up.
He walked to the copper basin set into the wall. He turned the brass tap he had machined himself.
Splash.
Steaming hot water poured into the basin. No servants hauling buckets. No boiling kettles. Just civilization.
[Project Complete: The Roman Suite]
[Hygiene Bonus: +20%]
[Prestige: +50]
"Let the Manderlys come," Ronan whispered, washing the grease from his hands in the hot water. "They think they are coming to inspect a farm. They are about to step into the future."
But as he dried his hands, a notification popped up in his peripheral vision. A warning.
[Alert: The Faith of the Seven]
[Trigger:] The explosion in the village.
[Status:] A wandering Septon has seen the smoke. He is preaching that you are meddling with forces beyond men. He calls the Blast Furnace a "Gate to the Seven Hells."
Ronan sighed. He had beaten the amateur copycats. Now he had to deal with the religious fanatics.
"Varrick," Ronan called out. "Prepare the guest room. And find out where this Septon is preaching. I need to have a theological debate."
Status Update:
• Tech: Central Heating (Hypocaust) & Indoor Plumbing operational in the Keep.
• Security: "Copycat" threat neutralized by failure. The region now believes Ronan's tech is "magic" or requires secret knowledge (which it does).
• Threat: The Faith (Religion) is getting suspicious of his "sorcery."