"What do you mean?"Luke Crowe asked, his voice edged with shock. He set down his tea, his mind already racing through the implications."Your neighbor to the east is Victor Ashgrave," Alan Whitcomb said, leaning forward. "His men have been asking how many soldiers and workers you have, where your mine is, how rich the ore vein is, and how much it produces each day. A merchant friend recently saw them inventorying weapons at Victor's Domain, preparing for something."Luke's jaw tightened. "He's planning to move on me?""I can't say for certain," Alan replied, his expression grave. "But I'd advise you to prepare. Soon."Silence stretched between them. Luke stared into his tea, thoughts churning like a storm behind his calm exterior. Finally, he looked up."What kind of man is he?"Alan let out a long sigh, as if the question itself was exhausting. "Domineering and ruthless, the kind who looks down on small Lords like you as if you were insects benea

"I'm listening."Baron Whitcomb led Luke Crowe into his study.Once inside, Luke spoke without preamble. "You deal with merchant caravans regularly, so you must be familiar with the concept of loans.""Of course." Alan Whitcomb raised his wine glass, his tone measured. "What are you proposing?""I need to borrow money," Luke said bluntly.He reached for the Baron's pen and paper, drafted a contract on the spot, and slid it across the desk. "Here's my plan. Take a look."[Loan Amount: One hundred gold coins' worth of supplies.Purpose: To forge weapons, fortify defenses, train militia, and stockpile provisions.Collateral: Thirty percent revenue share from the ore vein.Repayment Method: Twelve monthly installments, paid in ore.Loan Term: One year.Interest: None. However, the Lord of Ashenvale pledges that upon repelling Victor Ashgrave, Baron Whitcomb shall receive exclusive purchasing rights to the ore vein at twenty percent

Luke Crowe left early that morning, and soon after, Garrick and Hollis began rousing the soldiers of the Provisional Guard.The open training ground buzzed with energy. Every man assembled there looked ready to charge into battle at a moment's notice, their eyes burning with barely contained fire. Garrick limped forward to face them, his gaze sweeping across their sun-darkened faces. His hands trembled involuntarily, not from fear of any enemy, but from the weight of responsibility settling onto his shoulders. It had been far too long since he had last commanded troops. The fear gnawed at him, a quiet voice whispering that his rust might cost these men their lives, that one wrong decision could lead them all to their graves.Memories rose unbidden, fragments of past campaigns, past failures. Enough, he told himself, squeezing his eyes shut to force the ghosts away. What mattered now was training these men properly, nothing else. He drew a long breath, opened his eyes, and

The door swung open to reveal a massive orc standing on the threshold."Dreadiron?" Luke asked."It's been a while.""Yeah, it has," Luke said.Dreadiron ducked his head and stepped inside, his bulk filling the room."Grimjaw sent us to help you," he said in his characteristically sparse way.Luke Crowe frowned slightly. "Just you?""Not just me. There are fifty more of us, all in the woods outside.""Good," Luke said with a nod, unsurprised that the night patrols had missed Dreadiron's arrival. After all, Dreadiron's skill far exceeded anything Luke's men possessed."Tomorrow, hold back at first," Luke instructed. "Only step in if we're losing.""Understood," Dreadiron said, giving a silent nod before he turned and disappeared through the door. Luke had barely stepped outside to see him off when the orc vanished without a trace into the darkness.Luke exhaled slowly. "The insurance is in place."He slept soundly that night