boyutpedia Chapter 62 An Encounter with Oxenford
Chapter 62 An Encounter with Oxenford
The Seagull cruised smoothly on the Pontal River, where the water was wide and the current was gentle.
On the deck, fifteen regular soldiers were on guard duty in two shifts on both sides of the ship, while twelve sailors were selected from the regular army and the old Crow's Nest troops.
Most of them were Skelliges, and their movements in handling the sails and steering the ship were clean and efficient. The lead mate, a man with a red beard, was squatting by the ship's side, sharpening a short knife with a whetstone.
Inside the cabin, Erwin placed the whiteboard on the table and began his report with the main equipment currently being produced by Calad.
After the production of longswords, breastplates, plate armor, chainmail, helmets, spears, and Calads staffs began, the production of all equipment except chainmail steadily increased.
The iron rings of the chainmail need to be hammered and drawn by hand. A skilled apprentice can only produce a few meters of wire in a day. The subsequent ring making, weaving, and riveting all depend on manual labor, and the output is limited by this process.
Ron sat quietly to the side and listened, then reached into his pocket, took out a blueprint, and spread it on the table. The blueprint showed a new linkage mechanism.
Similar to a water-powered forging hammer but different in details, it uses a waterwheel to drive the main shaft, which has a set of gears embedded in it.
The gear drives a reciprocating wire drawing pliers, which clamps one end of a thick iron bar and drags it through a row of tapered holes of decreasing size on the wire drawing plate, gradually drawing it into a thin iron wire.
Erwin zoomed in on the blueprint, leaned over to look at it for a while, and traced his finger along the lines of the transmission gears to the wire drawing pliers. Then he looked up, pushed up his glasses, and spoke in a tone that was a mixture of doubt and curiosity.
"Ron, just how many more things are you hiding?"
"The principle of the water-powered wire drawing machine is not complicated. It simply converts the rotational power of the waterwheel into linear tension. I've seen something similar in Calradia before. It's not difficult to draw. Whether it can be built depends on what Brom says."
Erwin looked down at the blueprints again, carefully considering the materials and production cycle of each component, before his gaze fell on the transmission gear set.
"Gear transmission, this component requires high precision, the wire drawing plate, the most expensive single part, is a single piece of hardened metal plate with a row of tapered holes of decreasing size drilled on it."
It requires high levels of material hardness and skilled craftsmanship, but it's feasible. The materials need to be sourced externally. Brom is leading the effort, with Yuna assisting, and the work can be completed in the existing workshop next to the forge.
He listed and calculated the costs item by item: waterwheel and main shaft, transmission gears, annealing furnace, wire drawing pliers, wire drawing plate, rails and table, totaling one hundred to one hundred and twenty crowns.
The construction period is about eight to twelve weeks, and the budget is within an acceptable range. After completion, the production of iron wire will be greatly increased, changing from manual to water-powered, and the deployment speed of chainmail will no longer be a hindrance.
"Okay, I'll get Brom to start work as soon as we get back."
Erwin circled the note on the whiteboard, then turned to the next page and opened a stack of opened letters.
"I received a reply from Cowburger, and at least five people confirmed that they accepted the invitation. One of them was my former colleague, a senior architect, a halfling. Redania’s xenophobic policies prevented him from being recruited, but he couldn’t stay in Cowburger any longer."
The Eternal Flame Priest is inciting the crowd, currently targeting warlocks. Nobody knows when it will be the turn of non-human races. The others are philosophy students from well-off families; otherwise, they wouldn't have chosen such a useless major.
They are very interested in what you said earlier about "as long as they can get things done, it doesn't matter what they study." Employers willing to hire philosophy students are indeed very rare.
Elwin added that the number could increase further, with a final confirmation to be made after the meeting at the Cowburg.
"Did you get the Niubao ship passage permit through these connections too?"
Erwin adjusted his glasses: "Well, I'm a professor at Orsonford University. Most of my students work in various government departments in Newcastle, so getting a ship's pass is quite easy for me."
The stone bridge of Niubao appears after the bend in the river. A flock of gray and white seagulls circle above the harbor, masts are dense, and merchant ships and fishing boats are hulled together.
Several dockworkers were carrying wooden crates across the pier. The wooden houses along the street were closely packed together, their paint peeling off in the wind. Occasionally, a pastor of the Eternal Flame could be seen preaching to passersby on the bridge.
When the ship docked, Erwin, accompanied by five soldiers, went to pick up the students and old colleagues. Ron asked him to meet him at the port bar in the evening. He left his greatsword in the cabin and walked into the port with only a standard longsword.
The market in the port area stretched along the riverbank, with vendors' cries mingling with the sounds of bargaining. Several dockworkers, having finished carrying their goods, squatted by the bridge to drink water and discussed the war situation at the front in hushed tones.
Ron strolled through the market in the port area, wandering along the cobblestone streets. The afternoon sun was scorching, and street vendors were hawking their wares. Just as he was about to turn the corner, a rude laugh came from ahead.
Four burly men in guard uniforms surrounded the alley entrance. Blocked by them was a white-haired man. Geralt had one hand hanging at his side, his shoulder leaning against the wall, and his face was expressionless.
Ron took a step forward, and when he appeared at the entrance of the alley, he almost completely blocked out the light in the narrow alley.
The four guards turned their heads simultaneously. The leader instinctively took a step back, then barely managed to steady himself, raising his head to glare fiercely at Ron, seemingly trying to bolster his courage: "Mind your own business!"
Ron reached out and grabbed the top of his helmet, pulling it off his head. The man froze in place.
Ron placed the helmet between his hands and slowly closed it. The helmet creaked and groaned as it flattened into a disc, which he casually tossed to the ground. He looked down at the four guards and uttered a single word: "Get out!"
The four guards scrambled and disappeared into the alleyway, the one in the lead running the fastest. Ron turned around, Geralt straightened his crooked collar, looked at Ron, and before he could even say hello, Geralt was already looking at him.
At that moment, a tall man dressed in a black coat emerged from the depths of the alley. His hair was covered by a dark hood, beneath which was a broad, flat face with small but sharp eyes.
He looked at Geralt and Ron and said slowly, "If you're planning to do business in Cowburg, I can offer my assistance."
Geralt slung his sword over his shoulder. "Who are you?"
"You can't get your hands on Maximilian Bossodi's house by yourself. I overheard your conversation at the auction house. If you're interested in making a profit, come find me at the nearby herbalist's hut and tell him you want some yarrow extract."
After saying that, he turned and walked into the depths of the alley, disappearing into the shadows around the corner.
When Ron and Geralt entered the port tavern, there were only a few workers around a table throwing dice. The two found a seat against the wall, and there were two glasses of rye on the table. Ron spoke first.
"Didn't you go to Novigrad? Did you find Ciri?"
"No, I went to Novigrad, intending to ask an old friend for help. She's a sorceress, but when I arrived, her house had already been ransacked."
The person had disappeared somewhere, and I stayed in Novigrad for a few days hoping to find other clues, but I encountered an even more difficult problem.
Geralt picked up his glass, took a sip, and looked at his reflection. "Out of money."
"Is it because there are no more commissions available at Crow's Nest?"
Geralt placed his glass on the table: "Yes, because your army and you yourself have almost wiped out the monsters of Velen."
He looked at Ron, his face expressionless, but his tone clearly said, "This is all your fault," before letting out a deep sigh.
"So you're here to fulfill the request?"
"No, I'm repaying a debt of gratitude. I ran into a lot of trouble after my last job ended, and someone helped me. I need to repay that debt."
I wanted to go to the auction house to get something called the House of Bosodi, but when I mentioned it to the auction house owner, Horst, he got very angry and had the guards throw me out. I'm completely baffled now.
Ron finished his ale. "So, are you going to see that guy's invitation?"
"Well, there's no better way. Are you going?"
"The territory needs money everywhere right now, I'm practically splitting every copper coin in half... Since that person said so, I might as well go and take a look."