Welcome to Blóstmahaban, the Pearl of the West

The three-miles were being cleared with a speed most enviable back home. A few farms had already been torn down, drained, and now were being converted into storage yards and warehouses. The walls, if one could call them that, were merely wooden palisades erected to get the job done. Work on proper stone walls would have to wait until business was booming.

For the time being, most of the early investors were sleeping in tents. While buildings already existed within the area, they were being torn down and too few of them met basic standards, such as having beds. One of the less fussy men, by the name of Shylock, had seen profit going to waste and stopped a large inn from being destroyed. He had applied both for a money-changing licence and a vending licence on top of his existing bulk-goods one, which had gotten him odd looks. What could a man need with all three?

Well, for one, he could be trying to corner the market early on. While the inn was for the moment only being used to house his own workers, he had converted a small part of its downstairs area into exchange. He had acquired a good amount of local currency by standing by a gate and starting an auction for silver coins, which while not the correct way of exchanging monies, was certainly not illegal yet. With that, he had acquired enough stock to buy exotic and erotic booklets, paintings, and other things to stock his little inn with and to supply his planned export business (though he had to get creative with price interpretation to get out of taxes) and to operate his money-exchange.

With the only permanent looking building and a big sign above the doorway reading 'Pecuniæ aureæ optimæ sunt.', he soon got business. Idiots who did not know any better came to his store to exchange their good good monies for local ones before rushing out the gates to try and buy goods outside of the factory. Others, who were only passing through as crewmen or who had too much money and not enough sense, bought his knick-knacks to take home. Oddly, a few of the latter group asked if they could stay in an 'authentic' Yamato inn, which led Shylock and his cohort to scramble to find a room that was no trashed and some local servants to do the cooking and such. While the building was not ideal and far too Western for his tastes, it had shown itself to be a possible source of revenue in itself.

With his base laid out, he would turn himself wholly to the task of amassing wealth.

To: The Triumvirs of Yehud

From: Sa Hauhkuno af þis Raikh af hize Dalin, Haimfaðs þata Mattman Robertsunus af hize Dalin en Goþijin


Honoured Triumvirs,

We hope your realm continues to prosper.

It has come to our attention that a faction of your faith has grown discontent with the tripartite nature of your realm. We have seen them work well within our own realm and are prepared to settle them in a colony of their own, should they be loyal and pay taxes. We are willing to offer a treaty of migration, with the conditions that your people go only to the places we set aside for them and ours be allowed to return should they so desire it and have caused no offence to the Swersgesat.

We are willing to have the colony placed under Halacha, so long as the soldiers stationed to it are under Raikhslah.

We await your response.

Yours,

Sa Hauhkuno af þis Raikh af hize Dalin, Haimfaðs þata Mattman Robertsunus af hize Dalin en Goþijin