Disclaimer: I own nothing but my original characters and works; all other characters and worlds belong to their respective owners. I'm just playing with them.
Betad by
The Celestial Farmer
Chapter 13: Under the Sea
– Gharol –
While she liked to believe her people were honourable, there was a simple truth that she had to admit. In any other situation, someone would have stolen the mastercrafted axe already. As the Forge-Wife, she was well aware of just how amazing the Leviathan Axe truly was, and to have it just… sitting there in the open would have been more than most men could possibly resist.
Especially with her former husband, Chief Burguk, dead. She knew several of the men were considering declaring themselves Chief, that such a weapon would be enough for any Orc to become a chief, but still it remained exactly where it's owner had put it.
In Chief Burguk's head.
One would think that she'd mourn her husband, seeing his body still stuck in the ground with the axe embedded in his skull. She didn't. For all that he was a strong warrior, he had proven to be a weak leader and too easily tempted by Shel's large breasts, letting the youngest of his three wives get away with being nothing but a parasite to their stronghold.
Shel was likely the only one who truly mourned him, as without his protection, the child had to actually work for her food for a change. Someone shouted as they watched the Leviathan Axe move by itself, flying into the sky and off to the northeast.
"Focus on your work," Murbul ordered, the wise woman's words unchallenged. Her son lay dead at her feet, and she showed no pity for him. But then, he'd been the one to challenge their new chief, and he died for it. Malacath did not favour Burguk, his strength had been found far more than wanting as her attacks harmlessly bounced off Jorgen's body.
Jorgen and his friend Sam had barged in here, seeking Murbul's orcish ale recipe, drunk and jolly. Some of the men had tried to fight them only to be knocked around by Jorgen's incredible strength, and after Shel stared at Jorgen's topless body for a moment too long, Burguk had decided to put an end to the intruders and show that he was still the strongest man in the stronghold. Murbul, despite having long claimed her son was blessed by Malacath, told Burguk to not challenge the duo, but orcish pride was strong and Burguk would not back down as he charged.
She remembered his warhammer hitting Jorgen from behind, directly in the head. She also remembered Jorgen turning around, confused at what hit him, before he slapped Burguk so hard his jaw broke and he flew through the wall of their longhouse. That should have been warning enough, but Burguk managed to cling to consciousness long enough to attack again, going into an orcish fury.
Jorgen's response was as swift as it was deadly, the icy axe cleaving open Burguk's skull in an instant before he went back to drinking with Sam. Sam joked that Jorgen must be the chief now, as he'd beaten their former chief, and Jorgen had agreed.
Her son, Umurn, and Arob's son, Nagrub had risen to disagree, to challenge the man and avenge their father, but she was no fool. Umurn was a smith, not a warrior, and he had no weapon that compared to the warhammer that Bagruk had already shown did nothing to Jorgen. Arob, the hunts-wife, was equally quick to bring Nagrub into line before he threw his life away challenging a God.
For what else could Jorgen be? She was no fool, and the wise old Murbul had recognised Sam for what he truly was. Who would drink with Sanguine but a fellow god? Who possessed such inhuman strength and endurance than the divine themselves? While they did not know what God Jorgen was, she knew their new Chief was no mere Nord as he appeared.
It was clear that Umurn would never be chieftain but she did not believe he had the strength to defeat his half-brother or father to begin with, but as the Forge-Wife of Jorgen, she would bear him a strong Orc child of divine blood to one day lead their stronghold.
Before he continued on his quest with Sam, now carrying a barrel of Orcish ale, their chief had given them a simple command. Go north to Chillbloom. Many had complained about the idea of this exodus, but her people were a hardy one, and they were not the sort to be scared by the cold.
So, despite how… unusual the changing of Chiefs was, despite the fact that their new Chief was not an Orc to begin with, the Stronghold of Dushnikh Yal prepared for their grand journey to their new home with only some grumbling.
– Jorgen –
Catching my axe as it flies to me from… the other side of Skyrim, I grunt. Where in oblivion did I leave it? Clearly, somewhere in Reach, from the sheer direction and time it took for it to reach me. It was probably just in some Forsworn's head. No harm done as I head back inside with a grunt, returning to the… party I left.
100cp granted, 100cp total
"Mhmm, fuck," Ciri moans, her face a mess.
"Ciri! Don't eat like an animal," Sudi scolds, getting a cloth to wipe the chocolate from Ciri's face. "You're wasting good chocolate."
Ciri mumbles something in response, her words muffled by the chocolate she's stuffing into her face. Well, someone enjoys my new power at least. I won't deny, being able to endlessly create a trade good out of thin air is powerful for a businessman like me. Plus, I have a more than willing test group right here.
Hot Chocolate is most popular with the Nords who love a good drink, as Aela and Ria down their mugs with pleasure. The solid stuff is more popular with Ciri, and letting her know that I can just make this was a mistake I may regret as she knows I'm too damn fond of her to charge her for the excessive amounts she's devouring. Admittedly, her offer of paying in sexual favours made it worthwhile and licking melted chocolate off her body was a lot of fun, but still-
"So, you're coming to Whiterun with us?" Njada asks, nursing her own mug though she drinks far more slowly than the others. She seemed the bitchiest of the Companions, but it seems my new… godsforsaken reputation as the 'Dragonborn' has done good work in getting her respect. Or she just likes her new sword and shield.
"I am. Danica wants my aid in growing a Weirwood hearttree in front of the temple, and it's a good opportunity to do business with the most central hold. I've sent a letter to the Jarl informing him of my plans to do some trading with the merchants and residents of Whiterun, rather than just showing up on the steps like a Khajiit trade caravan," I explain easily.
There are no laws about showing up to do trade without a permit or anything. This isn't Cyrodil. It's still just good manners to let the Jarl know I'm coming since I'm planning on taking a considerable amount of trade goods with me, pulled by the Popos. The way I see it, if I'm going to Whiterun either way, I might as well make it a business trip.
I haven't forgotten that hiring the Companions to clear the fort counted for the sake of my power, so I would also like to speak to their Harbringer about forming a business relationship with the Companions going forward.
"Belethor should be happy. The man whines about the war disrupting trade enough to be heard in Jorrvaskr," Aela snorts, giving me a thankful smile as I click my fingers and refill her mug.
"Aye, but where there's disruptions there is opportunity," I say with a shrug. "If other traders are being disrupted, then it means there's more need for my goods. I suppose the Khajiit are thinking the same. Why else would they choose now, of all times, to have more caravans moving around Skyrim?"
With bandits and monster attacks on the rise, travelling just isn't safe. Guards are being sent away from their usual patrols to fight this pointless war, which means fewer regular patrols and more bandits. Not to mention deserters fleeing before they can be enlisted and turning to crime. Plus, bloodshed drives the animals and monsters of the land mad; all the fighting riles them up.
"I'm paying you girls for the escort to Whiterun," I add as an afterthought, seeing Ciri and Ria go to argue before Aela gestures for them to stop. I see the conflict on Aela's face, pride and need warring.
"You think you need protection, Dragonborn?" Aela asks challengingly, but I just snort.
"I think bandits will be slower to attack a caravan being guarded by the Companions. It saves me having to beat them to death with my bare hands," I retort simply. "Business is business. It's more convenient for me to have an armed escort for my goods, and friendship aside, people should be paid for the work they do."
"Don't try overpaying us. My pride can only be stretched so far," Aela warns. Ria's whispered comment to Ciri about Aela not minding being 'stretched' by me before distracts her from my response as Aela squabbles with her shield-sister, but we can talk numbers another time.
"How long do you think you'll be gone?" Sudi asks, not concerned but just curious. The farm has shown that it can keep functioning while I'm gone, and I've set all the golems on their particular construction jobs in Winterhold, on the roads, at my new port and finally in the farm itself. Expansion is the name of the game.
"With the Popo's, we'll make good time. They're fast for their size, and pulling the carts will be no real challenge for them. We'll be back in around three weeks, by my estimate," I explain, seeing a hint of sadness on her face. For the first time, Sudi will be alone on the farm as Ciri and Danica are travelling with me. Ranni will be around, but she's an independent woman and keeps to herself for much of the time. "Don't look so sad. My little… misadventure showed that I can go from the Reach to Winterhold in an hour if I push myself. I've made a new tool, a way for us to keep in touch. Say the word, and I'll be back at the farm before the hour is done."
Sudi flushes at that, embarrassed at her emotions being noticed.
"Or you could just come with us. The golems do much of the heavy lifting, and my connection to the farm will warn me if any emergencies come up. I can have Birna hire some people to handle the things that need a more human touch," I offer, seeing the temptation.
"No. The Kelbi get nervous around new people, and we can't leave untrained people to handle the spirit-tailed chickens and Quematrice," Sudi says, shaking her head. "Like you said, you're only an hour away and I'd almost dare someone to try anything just because you're away. Barioth isn't going south, after all. We can talk about hiring new farmers when you get back."
I don't need to worry about the Falmer either. Nerscylla has made short work of those within the various cave structures around here, because I've not been lazy when it comes to securing my home. There's not a single cave or ruin in these mountains that I haven't had secured and manned by golems.
Ciri leans over, whispering something I probably wasn't supposed to hear, and I just give Sudi a proud smile at her answer. I don't react to Ciri's suggestion that Sudi take her place in my bed tonight, since Ciri can get her itch scratched on the trip.
"What tool did you make?" Aela asks, frowning thoughtfully. I smile, eager to boast frankly. Between [Artificer] and [Primarch Mentality], my mind has been filled with ideas since the creation of my train.
"I call it an audio transmitter, half Dwemer technology and half my own special brand of invention," I explain. "I take it you've seen the bronze metal structure I made on the nearby mountain?"
"Aye. The metal that reaches into the sky?" Aela asks.
"I intend to build a proper stone tower for it later, but yes. It's the transmitter tower that allows my invention to project voices from the equipment here to any receiver. It's a very… early stage, the range isn't good and the audio quality is worse but the carriage I built for the Popo's to pull has a small receiver and I believe it will be able to reach from Winterhold to Whiterun," I admit. Ciri pauses before she gasps.
"That's why you were asking about things I'd seen in other worlds!" Ciri says, looking impressed.
"Aye. Your stories gave me ideas, and the dwemer were truly advanced. Their skill when working with sound was truly a sight to behold, and I've bent it to my will," I admit.
"You realise the Jarls will want this?" Aela points out, a frown crossing her face. I'm not blind to the military use of my technology, no. Instantly transmitting your voice to anywhere in Skyrim has incredibly military potential, relaying orders and intel to their troops. I won't let this stupid war stop me from advancing my technology.
"I do," I reply simply, getting a firm nod from her. I like Aela because the lines in the snow are clear. This isn't her business; she's just giving me a warning of a problem she sees. She's not a part of the farm or the family, just a friend. With benefits. Good benefits. If I am aware and have an idea of how to handle it, she's happy to leave it at that, even if I am fairly sure I could count on her if I truly needed her help. But I wouldn't do that to her, as it would become an issue for the Companions if she took a stance in the war to help me.
I could definitely count on Ciri if I needed to fight one of the sides to stop them from trying to occupy the farm. Realistically? If they try, I'm going to stop being so nice and beat whoever tries to death before invading either Windhelm or Solitude to make my point clear to General Tullius or Ulfric. I don't have all this strength for the fun of it. If they try to take what's mine, they'll see just what the Iron Fist can do.
While my spreading reputation is a problem in that it is bound to draw in more attempts to recruit me, it's also a good way of making sure people don't try anything stupid. If I have read Ulfric well, his attempts will be diplomatic rather than violent. I doubt Jarl Elisif and General Tullius will be skip diplomacy to try and muscle me into submission. Frankly, whichever side tries to force me will find me on the other side.
I suspect Winterhold is going to find ourselves faced with more intense attempts to get us to throw in support for one side than we have so far. Ulfric ignored us before and we are too far from Solitude for Elisif to try, but now both sides are going to try and get Winterhold on side because it comes with a certain Thane and our increasing wealth and power. But Ulfric won't let Winterhold become a knife at Windhelm and Dawnstar's back, and Tullius won't want the Stormcloaks getting a technological advantage over the Empire.
Shaking away the thoughts, I show them the room I made for transmitting. Again, I'm going to make a proper tower that will serve as a much better communications tower later. I also intend to see about buying land to build something similar in Whiterun, a central hold, for future endeavours. There are abandoned forts and broken towers all over Skyrim, just waiting for someone with the right skills and knowledge to come along and put them back to proper use.
The girls amuse themselves by playing with the tech, some in the large carriage I made for the Popo's to pull, and some in the building, but I don't get involved. I'm too embarrassed by the poor sound quality to be proud. The next one will be much better.
Instead, I spend the time planning out the route to Whiterun. There's more than one way to make the trip, but going down past Fort Kastav and then to Nightgate Inn is going to be the most secure path, and it lets me check out the roads between Windhelm, Winterhold and Dawnstar, which I'm going to be replacing soon. Plus, Birna has proved her use by making a contract with Nightgate Inn, supplying them with food and drink. She's also handling the Frozen Hearth in Winterhold, the Candlehearth Hall in Windhelm and the Windpeak Inn in Dawnstar.
She wasn't kidding about having contacts. She's also brought up the idea of opening a branch in Dawnstar as it currently doesn't have a general trader. Sure, it has a blacksmith and an alchemist but no general store.
I've agreed to look into buying some land there, because the place is underpopulated thanks to Skald's war efforts. And I still have friends there who could help. It just means dealing with fucking Skald the Elder.
Finishing plotting out our path, I don't react to the sound of footsteps approaching. Light, uneven steps. Nervous. Not Ciri, and too hesitant to be Aela. Sudi enters my room without knocking, as I fold up the map and turn to face the blushing Redguard. She's wearing a heavy fur coat, one of the ones I made for outdoor work or travel, and far too heavy for indoors as she closes the door behind her and steps closer.
"Here to wish me good night?" I ask playfully, getting a small smile from her as she giggles.
"Something like that," Sudi agrees, shifting the coat of her shoulders as it falls to the ground quickly from its heavy weight. Preditablly, she's entirely nude beneath it, the candlelight illuminating her naked form. "But why wish you good night when I can make sure it's a good one?"
"Ciri has been a bad influence on you," I joke, rising and stepping closer as I run my hand up her side, cupping her breast and gently squeezing it.
"I don't see you complaining," Sudi points out with a small smirk, kissing my neck. "I'm going to miss you, and she was right. If you're going to be gone for a while, I should make the most of tonight."
I go to speak, but she silences me with a kiss as she removes my tunic and tosses it aside, her hands exploring my muscular form. Even before I got [Iron Fist], I was muscular from the mining and farm work, but now even I have to admit that I have a true warriors build.
Cupping her buttocks, I let her slowly remove my clothes. She isn't moving slowly out of hesitance, but because she's enjoying the sights as she finishes undressing me, her eyes admiring my body in the same way that I'm enjoying the feel of her firm buttocks in my hands and her perky breasts against my chest. She's in better shape than when she first arrived, because farm life is physically intensive even when she's just working with the animals.
Grasping my already half-erect shaft, she slowly strokes it before she breaks the kiss and looks down at it, biting her lip before she takes my hand and guides me to the bed without a word, sitting on the edge before lying down and spreading her legs.
"Please-" Sudi starts, using her fingers to spread her brown pussy for me, exposing the pink insides. "Make me a woman. Your woman."
"This is your first time, isn't it," I ask, moving over her as I rest my cock on her womanhood, slowly grinding against her. She just nods. "I'll be gentle."
"Don't you dare. I want what you gave Ciri. What made Aela howl. I'm not a warrior, but I'm not made of glass, Jorgen. Take me, properly," Sudi demands, one leg hooking around my waist as she pulls me down for another kiss. "Make me yours."
What can a man do when faced with such a plea but oblige her? Pressing the tip against her virgin pussy, I push into her as she gasps. She doesn't have her hymen intact, but she rides both the Kelbi and Chocobo frequently enough that it's no surprise. She even rides Quematrice sometimes, and he's a rough ride at the best of times. There's no blood, but her tightness is undeniable as she gasps into my mouth, nails clawing at my back. I bottom out, resting inside her tight, hot cunt for a moment before I begin to move and give her exactly what she asked for.
Each thrust draws out another moan, another gasp of pleasure, and she adapts fast to the feeling, her legs locking behind my back to prevent me from pulling out as best she can. I don't go as rough as I do with Aela, because Sudi doesn't know what she was asking for, and Aela likes it very rough. If there's no blood, she's disappointed. Even still, I don't hold back much as I take Sudi hard and fast, the reinforced bedframe creaking under my movements as her cries fill the room.
It's not long before she's cumming, her already tight cunt squeezing down on me in a desperate need, pleas for more sputtered out between moans and kisses. Despite the pleasure, I can't help but think about just how much she's changed from that terrified, depressed girl that Ciri brought home. I much prefer this Sudi, and not just because I'm balls deep inside her.
Unhooking her legs and lifting one of them until its by her head, I give her what she's asking for as I use the new angle to truly begin to pound her tight Redguard cunt. Her breasts bounce enticingly with each thrust, her gasps growing louder now that they're not muffled by my mouth.
"Yes!" Sudi cries out, her hips trying to move to meet my thrusts. "Do it, inside. Cum inside me, please!"
Again, what's a man to do but oblige when the woman of the house is making such a passionate plea?
"You're mine, Sudi," I growl, one hand gripping her chin tightly.
"I- I am. Whenever and wherever you want me," Sudi agrees, panting and moaning. "Just cum inside me. Knock me up."
Her words make me almost falter, before I begin moving again with even faster thrusts. Maybe it's not the best idea, but the risk of impregnating her is far less than the risk of knocking up a warrior like Ciri or Aela. In fact, the idea of having her on the farm, barefoot and pregnant, waiting for me at the end of the day is downright appealing.
So, when the time comes, I don't hesitate to sheath myself inside her, each spurt of my seed going directly into her waiting, fertile womb. As a farmer, I know a thing or two about planting seeds, and with all my powers, I can say with relative certainty that this seed is well and truly planted as I thrust a couple more times, the last of my climax painting her insides before I rest atop her.
Slowly pulling out, I watch as my seed begins to leak from her slightly parted chocolate womanhood, the white contrasting nicely on her brown skin. She pants, a beaming smile on her lips before she slowly rises and turns around, moving onto her knees as she looks over her shoulder at me, her hands reaching back to spread her asscheeks for me as she wiggles her backside at me.
Well, I don't need a written invitation.
– Next Morning –
I do not 'lie in'. I rise with the sun, often before, and am usually hard at work long before the rest of the house has woken up. This morning, I woke to a blowjob, then got served breakfast in bed by Sudi, who insisted that I rest. Well, 'rest' as I worked up more of a sweat with her than I would have on the farm.
It… wasn't bad. It wasn't bad at all. By the time I got up for Danica's morning lessons, I'd emptied my balls into Sudi four more times. If anyone noticed Sudi's noticeable, downright pronounced limp, they said nothing.
Well, nobody but Ciri, who dragged Sudi off to the Chocobo's for 'important girl talk'. Girl talk that apparently demanded a large amount of chocolate. I know when a battle is not worth fighting, and I obediently supplied them with the goods. I had my share of chocolate last night anyway.
Danica genuinely surprised me with a suggestion. Not really a suggestion but more of a query on if something would be possible at all. She told me that people had seen Spriggans seemingly teleporting by entering trees only to leave another tree. She didn't know if it was legitimate or if people couldn't tell the difference between two Spriggans but her question was simple. Could we do the same with Green Magic and the Weirwood trees. Could we use the same network that we use to communicate between them to teleport from tree to tree?
The answer? Yes. Well, somewhat. The regular trees are not strong enough for that, but the Heartwoods are. I only have two at the moment, one next to the graves and another in the thicker Weirwood grove I planted north of the farm, nearer to my seafront land.
Hearttrees are much bigger, nearly twice the size of regular Weirwood trees, and the natural power within them is also far more potent. Danica wasn't able to teleport, yet, because she's still learning, and she's always been better with animals rather than plants. It's why she wants my help setting up the Weirwood in Whiterun.
But this means that I was wrong yesterday. My travel time between the farm and Whiterun won't be an hour. It'll be a second once we've gotten the Weirwood tree planted in Whiterun. And when Danica learns to do the same, as I am sure she will, she'll also be able to travel between the farm and Whiterun instantly, removing her own concerns about both following the path Lady Kynareth left for her while also upholding her own duties as the head priestess in Whiterun.
As the lessons for the day finish, I head over to the storage room for the carriage and carts. Honestly, I'm a little embarrassed by how fancy the carriage is; you'd think I was transporting some Imperial noble instead of a farmer, but I can't help myself from getting carried away. I'm taking two Popos, one will pull the carriage, and the other will pull the cart of goods. They're strong enough that one could easily pull both if I daisychained them together, but why make things complicated when I have an extra Popo?
As I'm finishing some last-minute touches to my carriage, I hear someone approaching and look up. For just a moment, I pause in confusion as I spot the dark elf approaching me, her robes clearly screaming that she's from the College.
Sure, we get some college people visiting occasionally like that Gane fellow who keeps showing up to look at my train. And Tolfdir who is the hot springs number one customer. But they don't normally come to me. Personally, I think it hurts their pride as mages to admit that I confuse them.
"Hello. You're Jorgen, right?" she asks, and I nod as I put my tools away. I was just making sure the wheel moved more smoothly for the rougher roads, once we get past the roads I made. Rough roads mean a bumpy ride, and just because I can deal with a bumpy ride, it doesn't mean I want to.
"Aye, that's me. What can I do for you," I ask politely, seeing no reason to be rude.
"My name is Brelyna Maryon, of House Telvanni, and I'm here with a business proposition," Brelyna starts, not quite hiding her nerves. House Telvanni? That's some Morrowind thing, right? Still, if she's here to do business then she deserves my full attention.
"I see. Consider my attention piqued. Come on, we can talk inside," I offer, giving her an encouraging smile. She's clearly new to this, but I won't turn her away without listening to her over inexperience.
– Brelyna Maryon –
Jorgen radiated magic. It was no exaggeration. To her senses, he felt like she was standing next to an entire font of mana, but it was controlled and potent. Still, she was sure she'd gone about this the right way the moment she mentioned business and saw his eyes light up.
After being led inside, she'd laid out her business deal before him. The situation in Morrowind, the land she had acquired in Solstheim, and her hopes of using his inventions and talents to create an expansion to Chillbloom that would first feed Solstheim and later supply all of Morrowind, once they proved it worked.
Jorgen had listened patiently, occasionally asking questions about soil fertility or other matters that could overcomplicate the work going forward. The ash storms were especially devastating as many farms, even in 'good' locations, would be buried twice a week by inches of ash. He knew his stuff, both magically and when it came to the farming itself, and she was glad she had done her own research, seeing his eyes gain a hint of approval as he treated her like a businesswoman instead of just a mage who had shown up on his doorstep with big ideas and no plan of how to put them into reality.
The plan was simple. She would turn over the land, ensuring that whatever permits he needed were handled, and in exchange, she would get ten percent of the new farm. It wasn't much, but it meant that this would be a business linked to House Telvanni. She knew rival houses were bound to cause a stir, especially House Redoran, which ran Raven Rock, but that was where she and her House came in. She had a good read on Jorgen and could tell that his interest in politics was limited at best, and that was Nord politics, never mind the bickering of Dunmer Houses. So, that was her main role in the partnership, beyond aiding his magical research as best she could. She'd be the backer who used her house name and connections to ward off rivals and detractors who wouldn't want a 'Nord' business gaining such influence in Morrowind. He'd been clear that their agreement was only for the new business in Solstheim, and did not affect Chillbloom farm or his burgeoning trade enterprise, which she was more than happy to agree with. She didn't need the very powerful, probable Dragonborn thinking she was trying to steal his family farm.
She enjoyed her head being attached to her neck, personally.
"You have yourself a partner, Miss Maryon," Jorgen finally agreed, having exhausted every question he could think of. "Though I do have business in Whiterun I need to attend to before I consider a trip to Solstheim to evaluate the land there."
"Of course," Brelyna agreed easily. "I am well aware of how busy you are, and didn't expect you to drop everything at once. The situation in Morrowind has been that way since the eruption and isn't likely to change so quickly."
"So, tell me honestly. How bad is the situation in Raven Rock if you were able to buy the land from a rival family?" Jorgen asked, looking over the map she'd brought.
"Think Winterhold before you started changing things, but with ash instead of snow and more monster attacks," Brelyna admitted with a shrug. "It's not a pleasant place to live, and everything is in short supply. They have few trade ships that are even willing to take the trip across the Sea of Ghosts, and the East Empire Trading Company has all but abandoned them, even though they formed the settlement to begin with. Dangerous waters, pirates and even sea monsters make the trek too risky for the tiny profit merchants could make by making the trek."
With Raven Rock being dirt poor, even by Morrowind's current dire standards, there just wasn't enough money for it to be worth most traders heading across the rough seas, even if they raised the prices. You couldn't squeeze blood from a rock, and Raven Rock just didn't have the money to pay hiked prices. So, it relied on a few honest traders willing to make that trip for a small amount of profit.
"Rough seas, huh?" Jorgen mused, rubbing his chin. He'd told her about the port he was building, and it would be the closest port to Raven Rock, and meant they wouldn't have to deal with Windhelm and its hiked prices for ships coming to and from Morrowind, but it was still by no means an easy deal. "Yeah, I can deal with that. Hey, nobody actually owns the seas, right? Or the land beneath it?"
"...I don't think so," Brelyna admitted, wondering if it had ever come up. She was sure some mad king had declared the oceans his property at some point but legally? Did anyone actually own the oceans? She didn't think so.
"Great. So nobody can complain when I make my tunnel under them," Jorgen said with a growing smirk.
"...you can do that?" Brelyna asked, staring at him in disbelief.
"Easily? No. The water pressure, the weight… everything would have to be done very carefully and the tunnel would have to be reinforced to oblivion and back with bulkheads ready to seal the entire thing in the case of a single leak, but can it be done? Oh yes. Yes, it can," Jorgen said, his eyes alight. "And when it is? My train will go from Winterhold to Ravenrock in a matter of hours. Breylna, I promise you this. We're going to get so rich from this that the East Empire Trading company will kiss our asses and suck my cock just for the right to send some of their goods through my tunnel."
"Raven Rock doesn't have that much money," Brelyna pointed out, even as her mind raced with the possibilities.
"Neither did Winterhold before I returned. But a rich settlement means more money to spend on my goods. Besides, goods can flow both ways, and there are things in Morrowind that people would pay good money for in other provinces. But as you said, the seas are rough and dangerous, so…"
"We'd have an easy monopoly. Even if others could transport them, we would do it faster and be able to sell them cheaper without the transport costs," Brelyna finished, eyes lighting up in realisation.
…forget the East Empire Trading Company. If this worked half as well as he claimed, she'd suck his cock to stay involved with his business as it grew beyond Skyrim. Gesturing for her to follow him to what was clearly his workshop, Dwemer tech dismantled and strange runes on things she couldn't even begin to understand, he pulled out a sheet and began to work, and she could only watch as a simple farmer from Winterhold began to plan the first interprovincial underseas tunnel and transport network.
Author's Note: Jorgen has the mind of Roberto the Girlyman, master of Microsoft Excel. When it comes to logistics, he cannot be stopped. Compared to running Ultramar, this is childsplay.
Shame the rest of Tamriel isn't ready for it, but sucks to be them.
Written: 07/01/2026