Stallion of Whiterun (Skyrim Balgruuf SI) Chapter 9 (Patreon)

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The climate needed some getting used to were the thoughts of Proventus Avenicci as he wrapped the fur cloak be purchased around himself and his wife. In her hands and wrapped in a tight bundle, their daughter slept peacefully and innocently unaware of the frost her parents were forced to endure. The Imperial had taken his family and what they had left with them on this made move to Skyrim. As much as he would have loved to stay in Cyrodiil, it was simply too damaged for him to make an effective living. That was until he had heard that some Nordic legate was offering people land if they moved with him to Skyrim. Proventus figured that the cold of Skyrim was more tolerable than the unprosperous warmth of the South. 

They had travelled extensively now, a menagerie of different races on aged stone roads. The environment soon changed, from the settled and populated environs of Whiterun to more wilder and farther plains. Immediately, his mind quickly grasped at what needed to be done. Their new lord had taken them to settle by one of the rivers of Whiterun just by their east. To the North, there were high hills that brimmed with trees and west, fields of untapped earth. His mind thought of the countless possibilities. Proventus was educated, a learned man fresh from the University. He had ideas and by Zenithar, he was going to use them. 

These ideas, he would make known to their lord once they stopped. And stopped they did. Whole wagons halted in a semi-circle as Balgruuf halted. His horse reared. "Patrol around, see that we are uninterrupted!" He barked to his riders who nodded as they sped off, no doubt to watch their backs as they busied setting up. The former Legate turned around, his head scanning around. "Proventus! Where are you? Come!" 

Proventus exchanged a look with his wife whose eyes glinted with encouragement. "Go, do you thing. Impress him." she urged him. He smiled, leaning into give her a kiss and his Adrianne, a smile. For them, he was willing to do anything. The Imperial took in a breath as he hopped off his wagon and ran over to his lord. 

"Here my lord!" he called out. Balgruuf's eyes quickly went over to him. 

"I am going to need you to get on a horse. We are going riding. Best for you to see what can be done with the land here," Balgruuf said. At his word, a rider came close, a free horse at his side. Balgruuf blinked. "You know how to ride, right?" 

"Uh, yes. Though I am not very good at it," Proventus admitted. He had taken his lessons but he wasn't exactly a dashing cavalryman. 

"As long as you can ride him, that's fine. We aren't going into battle anyway," snorted Balgruuf. At that, Proventus climbed atop the horse given out for him. He tried to whisper words of encouragement to his new equine friend but the horse merely snorted in his attempts. It was as if he detected the novice skills of Proventus and decided to take pity on him. Defeated, Proventus's shoulders sagged as Balgruuf trotted off, Felarof majestically prodding along the cold earth. 

"So, we have a river to our east, forest north and plains west of us," Balgruuf noted. "What ideas do you have in mind?" 

Proventus glanced around. Out of the people, he was picked as a leader for their merry group, on virtue of being educated. And he wasn't going to disappoint. He glanced around and took a moment to scan their new land. It was of course, picturesque. In the far distance, he could spy two towers overlooking what seemed to be a waterfall and a hilly road. Eastmarch was in the distance, he remembered. Far north to them, the land rose high and with multiple types of trees that added green to the white. And west of them, just endless plains to till. 

"With the river, fishing comes to mind immediately," Proventus began, a gloved hand rubbing the underside of his chin, "And if we can get the species for it, we could also have the production of clams, shrimp, and crabs. Are there any such species here?" 

"Aye, mudcrabs. Big bastards but tasty claw meat," Balgruuf said as he considered Proventus's words. "Clams, you could also get pearls too. I'll be sure to send people out to get you your farms." He trudged his horse along to the riverside, his eyes noting the strong currents. "There's also another thing I want done, Proventus. You are familiar with the Imperial foundries that produce arms and armor for the legion?" 

Proventus nodded. He had though their practices escaped him. "I have, my lord. But where is the relation between the foundries and fishing?" 

Balgruuf grinned, looking down at the river. "Strong currents, Proventus. We can use this to turn machinery and make better weapons and armor for troops. Not only that, we could use those foundries for a more civilian approach as well. I will talk with you later about what exactly I want done." 

Proventus nodded hesitantly at that. He had no idea what the Nordic Jarling wanted but he was willing to go ahead in his schemes. It was their money and time used, all Proventus did was see it done. "If a foundry is what you want, my lord, then we will need constant fuel for it. And men to work them." 

"Lucky then that there is a forest nearby," Balgruuf said, looking towards the hills. "As for men...well...there shall be plenty of returning legionaries and refugees that will come. And those people will need work." He then paused as he glanced towards his Dunmer housecarl still looking hungover despite the waterskin she was gulping down. An idea flashed in his eyes as he turned east, towards Eastmarch. "...Windhelm has much people too," Balgruuf said to himself. 

"I shall see it done, my lord," Proventus offered. Fishing, foundries, what more did the man want? 

"Ah, farming!" Balgruuf said, clicking his fingers. "Come, come. To the plains!" 

And there, Proventus found himself riding off into the distance. He appreciated speed, it made things quick. But by the Divines, Balgruuf was like a flash of lightning, zipping here and there. But Proventus knew what he was getting himself into with the man's boundless energy. He had heard that a great party was thrown in their honor and much food and drink was imbibed. Balgruuf did not look like he was suffering from the effects of a hangover unlike his guard. 

Then there they was, in a massive and ever flowing field of green glowing grass. "Tell me, Proventus...how do Cyrodiilic farmers feed the Empire?" Balgruuf asked, turning over to him. Proventus's brains racked up to answer. 

"Uh...we use a system of rotation, my lord. We sequence different types of crops to ensure variety as well as make sure the soil remains productive," He answered automatically. "This was pioneered quite a while ago, after the Oblivion Crisis, in fact. The loss of population made farmers think on how best to maximize crop production while having little workers." 

Balgruuf nodded at the historical tidbit, letting the Imperial drone about his knowledge. "I have to wonder why the practice did not spread," he muttered. 

"In honesty, my lord, Cyrodiil has always been the breadbasket of the Empire," Proventus answered. "I suppose there hasn't been any reason for it to spread?" 

"Until now, then," Balgruuf hummed. "Until Cyrodiil rebuilds its fields, people will find their markets with much less to offer. An opportunity for us, here." His fingers tapped on his knee as he looked across. "Organize me a list of things that you and your people will need. Seeds, animals, whatever it is, say it. I will have it sent for." 

"Uh, thank you, my lord," Proventus said, already noting what they would need. Divines, he would have to check again for what they need. It was then, they heard the rushing off hooves. The party turned to see a rider frantically coming forward. He held his ground as he drew closer, panting. 

"What is it, son?" Balgruuf asked, noting his dishevelled appearance. The rider saluted, fist to the chest, before speaking. 

"Undead, my lord. One of our patrols were scouting around the hills when gaggle of them appeared." the rider reported quickly. Proventus's eyes were blinded briefly as metal glinted. Balgruuf had drawn his sword and so did the others.

His face was grave. "Where?" 

"As I said, my lord, to the north. By the hills." 

"Then let us ride! Let's send them back to the cairns where they belong!"

Poor Proventus yelped as the horsemen rode off, leaving him in a cloud of dust.

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