《Vernon The Great [Kingdom Building]》 Chapter 1: A new Beginning Vernon Aerys, once Samuel Hartley, found himself lying awake in the dim light of dawn, staring at the crude wooden beams of the ceiling. The surreal nature of his situation weighed heavily on him. Every detail of his surroundings, from the rough woolen blanket that covered him to the distant cawing of crows, was a constant reminder that he was no longer in the world he knew. His body, now that of a young baron, was both familiar and strange. He could feel the strength of youth coursing through his limbs, but his mind was a whirl of confusion and memories that weren''t entirely his. The previous Vernon had been a notorious drunkard and lout, despised by his people and ignored by the nobility. But Samuel''s engineering mind, now inhabiting this body, saw opportunities where others saw despair. Rising from his bed, he splashed his face with water from a basin, the cold jolt helping to clear his thoughts. He needed to understand this world better, to navigate its intricacies and find a way to bring about the changes he envisioned. He could not afford to squander this second chance. As he dressed, the door to his chamber creaked open, revealing a thin, middle-aged man with a nervous expression. "Good morning, my lord," he greeted. "Good morning," Vernon replied, noting the man''s hesitation. He searched his newly acquired memories and identified him as Roderic, his steward. "Roderic, I need to understand the current state of the barony. Summon my retainers and have them gather in the grand hall. "Roderic''s eyes widened slightly at the uncharacteristic command but nodded swiftly. "At once, my lord." Taking a deep breath, Vernon prepared himself. He felt the weight of expectations, from his own aspirations as much as from the transgressions of his prior self. He was quite conscious of the stares and whispers that followed him as he made his way to the big hall. The grand hall of the castle was a sprawling expanse, its stone walls draped with tapestries depicting historic battles and legendary tales. Massive wooden beams supported the high ceiling, from which hung ornate chandeliers fitted with flickering candles, casting a warm, golden light across the room. At the far end, a grand fireplace roared with life, its flames dancing and crackling, providing both warmth and a focal point for the room. The floor, covered with rushes and strewn with the occasional bear or wolf pelt, bore the marks of countless feet, from armored knights to bustling servants. Long wooden tables and benches lined these tables, ready to seat the castle''s inhabitants, from high-ranking nobles to visiting travelers. Beyond the grand hall, the castle''s interior revealed a labyrinth of corridors and staircases, each leading to different chambers and quarters. The walls here were more austere, the stone cold to the touch, with the only warmth provided by torches mounted at regular intervals. The private chambers of the baron were more modest, though still comfortable, with a large canopy bed, a writing desk, and a wardrobe filled with finely made garments. The thick, wooden shutters could be closed to keep out the chill of the night, while a small fireplace in the corner provided light and heat. The kitchens were a hub of activity, filled with the clatter of pots and pans, the hiss of roasting meats, and the chatter of cooks and scullery maids. The air was thick with the smell of freshly baked bread, herbs, and the rich aroma of simmering stews.Below, the dungeons were a stark contrast to the upper floors. Dark and damp, the air was filled with the smell of mold and the faint, metallic scent of old blood. Heavy iron bars and thick wooden doors secured the cells, where prisoners awaited their fate in varying degrees of discomfort and despair. You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. Every corner of the castle bore the weight of history, from the worn steps leading to the battlements to the faded heraldic banners in the great hall, each telling a story of battles fought, alliances forged, and a lineage that spanned generations. In the grand hall, the retainers of Tyrol assembled. Vernon recognized each face, each name, a blend of the old baron''s memories and his own sharp analysis. Among them were Captain Royce, a loyal knight with a stern demeanor; Elena, a skilled healer and herbalist; and Arturo, the talented blacksmith with a knack for innovation. "Lords and ladies," Vernon began, his voice firm but measured. "We face many challenges. Tyrol is in disrepair, our people are suffering, and our resources are dwindling. I intend to change this, but I need your help. "The retainers exchanged wary glances. Vernon continued, "I am no longer the man I once was. I have seen the error of my ways and seek to rectify them. We must work together to rebuild Tyrol, to make it a place of prosperity and justice. "Captain Royce stepped forward, his brow furrowed. "My lord, you speak with a newfound purpose. But words alone will not suffice. What do you propose? "Vernon nodded, appreciating the knight''s directness. "First, we must address the immediate needs of our people. Roderic, compile a list of the most pressing issues. We will tackle them one by one. "Roderic nodded, his surprise giving way to a flicker of hope. "Yes, my lord. I will get started right away." "Elena," Vernon continued, turning to the healer. "I want to establish basic hygiene practices among the villagers. We will reduce illness and improve overall health. "Elena''s eyes lit up with approval. "I can start teaching them simple habits, my lord. It will make a significant difference." "Arturo," Vernon addressed the blacksmith, "I need your skills to create better tools and equipment. We must improve our agriculture and infrastructure. "Arturo''s broad face broke into a grin. "It would be an honor, my lord. I have some ideas that could help. "Vernon felt a surge of optimism. He knew it wouldn''t be easy, but with the right people by his side, change was possible. "Good. Let''s get to work." The days that followed were a whirlwind of activity. Vernon immersed himself in understanding the barony''s problems, his analytical mind breaking down each issue into manageable parts. The retainers, once skeptical, began to see the method behind his apparent madness. Vernon spent time with the villagers, listening to their grievances and observing their daily struggles. He found that most of their issues stemmed from a lack of basic knowledge and resources. Crops failed due to poor farming techniques, diseases spread due to unsanitary conditions, and the people lived in fear of the church''s oppressive influence. He began with small, tangible changes. Under Elena''s guidance, the villagers learned to boil water before drinking it, drastically reducing cases of illness. Arturo crafted new farming tools, which Vernon demonstrated personally, showing the farmers how to use them effectively. Captain Royce organized regular patrols to ensure the safety of the barony, while also gathering intelligence on the movements of potential threats. Vernon''s sober demeanor and tireless efforts did not go unnoticed. The people of Tyrol, who had once scorned him, began to see him in a new light. His retainers, once doubtful, now found themselves inspired by his vision and dedication. One evening, as Vernon sat in his study, pouring over reports, Captain Royce entered. "My lord, may I have a word?" "Of course, Royce," Vernon replied, looking up from his parchments. Royce hesitated for a moment before speaking. "You have changed, my lord. The man you were... he would not recognize the man you are now. I see a leader before me, one who cares for his people and strives for their betterment. You have my loyalty. "Vernon felt a pang of gratitude and responsibility. "Thank you, Royce. I cannot do this alone. Together, we will rebuild Tyrol. Vernon knew that the road ahead would be fraught with challenges. He needed to be cautious and strategic, anticipating the moves of his enemies while continuing to push for progress. His modern knowledge was his greatest asset, but it also made him a target. One evening, as he stood on the balcony of his manor, looking out over the bustling village below, Vernon felt a sense of pride and determination. He had been given a second chance, and he would not waste it. Tyrol would rise from the ashes of its past, a beacon of knowledge and justice in a world shrouded in darkness. For Samuel Hartley was gone, but Vernon Aerys remained. And he had a territory to develop. Chapter 2: Developing Farming Vernon Aerys awoke to the soft glow of dawn filtering through his chamber¡¯s narrow window. The air was crisp, a reminder of the cool late-spring morning outside. He took a moment to savor the sensation, the delicate balance between the night¡¯s chill and the promise of a warm day ahead. Rising from his bed, he performed a series of stretches, feeling the strength and vitality of his youthful body. He stepped out onto the balcony, breathing deeply the fresh morning air tinged with the earthy smell of dew-covered grass and distant pine forests. The castle grounds were still quiet, the workers and servants just beginning their day. The sky above was a pale blue, with the first rays of sunlight casting long shadows across the courtyard. A slight breeze rustled the leaves of the trees, carrying with it the faint scent of blooming flowers. Vernon descended to the courtyard and began his morning exercise routine, pushing his body to its limits with push-ups, squats, and running laps around the perimeter. The physical exertion invigorated him, sharpening his mind for the day ahead. After finishing, he made his way to the well and splashed his face with cold water, the icy shock clearing away the last remnants of sleep. As he returned to his chambers, he noticed a few castle workers observing him from a distance, their expressions a mix of curiosity and astonishment. The previous Vernon had never shown such discipline or care for his well-being. Whispers followed him as he walked through the halls. ¡°He¡¯s changed,¡± one servant murmured to another. ¡°Have you seen how he exercises every morning?¡± ¡°And his hygiene,¡± another replied. ¡°He washes himself every day. I¡¯ve never seen a noble do that.¡± Vernon pretended not to notice the discussions, focusing instead on the tasks ahead. He dressed quickly and made his way to the dining hall for breakfast. The meal was simple¡ªcoarse bread, a chunk of cheese, and a cup of watered-down ale. He chewed thoughtfully, already planning improvements. Proper nutrition would benefit everyone, but he knew he had to prioritize his efforts. After breakfast, Vernon headed to his study, where Roderic awaited him with a stack of reports. The steward greeted him with a respectful nod. ¡°Good morning, my lord. Shall we begin?¡± Vernon settled behind his desk, the wooden surface worn smooth by years of use. ¡°Yes, Roderic. Let¡¯s go over the current state of the barony.¡± The two men spent the next few hours reviewing various matters¡ªcrop yields, livestock health, taxation, and the general well-being of the villagers. Vernon listened intently, asking pointed questions and taking detailed notes. ¡°We need to focus on improving our agricultural practices,¡± Vernon said. ¡°Poor harvests and failing crops are our most pressing issues.¡± Roderic nodded. ¡°Indeed, my lord. Last year¡¯s harvest was particularly bad, and with neighboring countries experiencing famine, our situation could become dire.¡± ¡°Let¡¯s start with a new farming tool,¡± Vernon suggested. ¡°I have an idea for a heavy, wheeled plow that should help us till the soil more effectively.¡± Roderic looked intrigued. ¡°A wheeled plow? That sounds promising, my lord.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll speak with Arturo about it later,¡± Vernon replied. ¡°For now, I need some time alone to work on the design.¡± Vernon dismissed Roderic and turned to his journal, an old leather-bound book he had found among his predecessor¡¯s belongings. Using his modern knowledge, he carefully sketched the design for the heavy, wheeled plow, annotating it with detailed notes in English. He wrote about his feelings, his plans, and the events of his new life, ensuring that if the journal were ever discovered, its contents would remain a mystery to anyone who couldn¡¯t read his native tongue. If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. After finalizing the design, Vernon summoned a carriage and set out for the village. The ride was bumpy, the uneven dirt roads jostling the carriage and its occupants. He made a mental note to consider improvements for the future, such as designing leaf springs to smooth the ride. The village was a stark contrast to the castle. Dilapidated houses with thatch roofs lined muddy, uneven roads. The air was filled with the scent of livestock and the smoke of cooking fires. Villagers moved about their daily routines, their expressions weary and resigned. Vernon, accompanied by Captain Royce, approached a group of farmers gathered near the village square. They looked up in surprise, not expecting a visit from their baron. ¡°Good morning,¡± Vernon greeted them. ¡°I¡¯ve come to discuss your farming practices and see how we can improve our harvests.¡± The farmers exchanged nervous glances before one, an older man with weathered skin and a hunched back, stepped forward. ¡°My lord, last year¡¯s harvest was poor. The soil is hard, and our tools are worn. We worry that this year will be just as bad, especially with the famine spreading.¡± Vernon listened carefully, noting their concerns. ¡°I understand your worries. I¡¯ve designed a new plow that should help us till the soil more deeply and efficiently. I¡¯ll have it made and delivered to you as soon as possible. In the meantime, continue with your current methods and report any issues to me directly.¡± The farmers seemed hopeful, their skepticism giving way to cautious optimism. Vernon continued his journey, next visiting Arturo¡¯s forge. The blacksmith was a burly man with powerful arms and a friendly demeanor. He greeted Vernon with a respectful nod. ¡°My lord, what brings you to my forge today?¡± ¡°I have a new project for you, Arturo,¡± Vernon said, showing him the design for the heavy, wheeled plow. ¡°This plow should help our farmers work the soil more effectively. Can you make it?¡± Arturo studied the design, his eyes widening with interest. ¡°This is remarkable, my lord. I can see the benefits already. I¡¯ll get to work on it right away.¡± ¡°Excellent,¡± Vernon replied. ¡°If you have any suggestions for improvements, feel free to share them.¡± Arturo nodded. ¡°I might reinforce the frame here and adjust the blade angle slightly. It¡¯ll make it more durable and efficient.¡± ¡°Thank you, Arturo. I trust your judgment,¡± Vernon said. ¡°I¡¯ll also be speaking with Jack and Alvin about infrastructure improvements. We need better roads and more robust buildings.¡± Leaving the forge, Vernon made his way to the village¡¯s senior carpenter, Jack, and the mason, Alvin. The two men greeted him with a mixture of respect and curiosity. ¡°Gentlemen,¡± Vernon began, ¡°we need to discuss various infrastructure projects. Our roads are in poor condition, and many buildings are falling apart. I want to start with the basics and work our way up.¡± Jack nodded. ¡°We¡¯ve been patching things up as best we can, my lord, but we lack the proper materials and manpower.¡± Alvin added, ¡°And the knowledge, too. If you have ideas, we¡¯re eager to hear them.¡± Vernon spent the next hour discussing plans for better roads, sturdier buildings, and improved sanitation. He emphasized the importance of proper drainage to prevent flooding and reduce the spread of disease. Jack and Alvin listened intently, offering their own insights and suggestions. As he walked through the village, Vernon couldn¡¯t help but feel a mix of hope and frustration. The people were resilient, but their conditions were dire. Waste littered the streets, and the smell of decay hung in the air. He thought of introducing indoor plumbing eventually, but he knew it would be a long process. He looked up at the sky, noting its alien hue and the closer proximity of the sun. The sky was a deeper blue, almost violet, and the sun seemed larger and more intense than he remembered from Earth. It was a constant reminder of his strange new world. He thought about the barony¡¯s place in the larger Kingdom of Arzinor, situated in the northwest part of the Mezonia continent. Tyrol was on the northwestern edge of the kingdom, bordered by vast, undeveloped lands. The potential for expansion and growth was immense, but so were the challenges. As the sun began to set, casting long shadows over the village, Vernon returned to his carriage and made his way back to the castle. He felt a sense of accomplishment but also an awareness of the long road ahead. He had started to lay the groundwork for a better future, but there was still much to be done. Back in his study, Vernon reviewed his notes and added new ideas to his journal. He wrote about his conversations with the villagers, his plans for new innovations, and his observations of this alien world. The journal was a record of his thoughts and experiences, a way to keep himself grounded in this strange new reality. As he prepared for bed, Vernon felt a deep sense of purpose. He had been given a second chance, and he was determined to make the most of it. The people of Tyrol deserved a better life, and he would do everything in his power to provide it. With the right innovations and a steadfast commitment to progress, he believed that Tyrol could become a beacon of hope in a world shrouded in darkness. Chapter 3: The Troubling Past The night was cold, the kind of chill that seeped into your bones. Outside, a gentle breeze rustled the leaves, whispering secrets to the darkness. The sky was a tapestry of stars, each one glimmering like a distant memory. Inside the castle, the air was damp and carried a faint musty scent, a reminder of its age and the many stories it held within its stone walls. Vernon Aerys lay restless in his bed, the sheets tangled around his legs. His face was contorted with distress, his brow slick with sweat. He was trapped in a nightmare, a relentless loop of his most painful memories. Suddenly, he awoke with a start, his chest heaving as he gasped for air. The room felt suffocating, and the sweat clung to his skin like a second layer. He sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed, his breaths coming in ragged bursts. The cool night air did little to calm his racing heart. He could still feel the echo of the dream, the raw sting of the past. "Why now?" he muttered to himself, rubbing his eyes. "Why can''t I escape it?" The nightmare was a replay of the events that had led to his banishment, a wound that had never fully healed. It wasn''t his past, but the past of the original Vernon Aerys, a man whose life he now inhabited. He closed his eyes, letting the memories flood in. The royal ball at Arz City had been a grand affair, the kind that nobles and royals alike attended in their finest attire. The air was thick with the mingling scents of perfumes, roasted meats, and the sweet tang of wine. Vernon, already deep into his cups, had noticed Lady Olfina Armandt slipping out to the balcony. She had always been a vision to him, a bright young woman with an air of grace and poise. Her long, chestnut hair had shimmered under the moonlight, and her emerald green dress had hugged her form perfectly. Lady Olfina was the daughter of the Duke of Armandt, his father''s liege. The County of Aerys was part of the Duchy of Armandt, making their families intertwined by loyalty and duty. Vernon had been infatuated with her since childhood, but she had never returned his affections. There were whispers that she was to be betrothed to Crown Prince Harold Arzyn, a man she adored. Harold Arzyn a handsome man was everything Vernon was not: charismatic, well-built, and skilled in warfare. His golden blonde hair was kept short, and his deep blue eyes held a regal confidence. He was beloved by the people and especially by women, a true prince in every sense. Vernon, despite his own good looks and martial prowess, was a shadow of his potential. His platinum blond hair was long and unkempt, his bright green eyes dulled by alcohol. His chiseled jaw and strong physique were marred by his drunken, womanizing ways. He often reeked of alcohol, and his behavior had earned him a reputation as a lout. Lady Olfina had been Vernon''s childhood crush ever since his family visited Amarillo, the Duchy''s capital. But Olfina had her sights set on higher things, on a future with the crown prince. She had always been aloof, her disdain for Vernon clear. This only fueled his resentment and his desire to prove himself to her. That night, as she stood on the balcony, bathed in the silver light of the moon, Vernon had followed her, driven by a mix of longing and drunken bravado. He stumbled, the stone slab underfoot causing him to trip. He caught himself against her, his breath hot and reeking of wine. "Olfina," he slurred, reaching out to steady himself. "I need to talk to you." She turned, her face a mask of shock and anger. "Vernon, what are you doing?" she demanded, her voice a hiss. "I... I just wanted to talk," he stammered, his vision swimming. "You¡¯re drunk," she said, stepping back. "Go away." "Please, just listen," he pleaded, his words thick. "I''ve loved you since we were children." Her eyes flashed with anger. "Love? You don¡¯t know the meaning of the word, Vernon." His heart ached at her harsh words. "You never gave me a chance," he said, his voice breaking. You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. "Because you¡¯re always like this," she snapped. "Drunk, irresponsible. Look at yourself." In his frustration, Vernon grabbed her arm, desperate for her to understand. She screamed, her voice piercing the night. She fought against his grip, her fear and anger making her strong. "Let go of me!" she yelled, her voice echoing off the stone walls. Before he could react, a sharp pain exploded in his stomach. Someone had kicked him hard, sending him sprawling. He looked up, dazed, to see Crown Prince Harold standing over him, his face a mask of fury. "Get away from her," the prince commanded, his voice cold. Vernon tried to speak, but the prince''s aides were upon him, dragging him to his feet and raining blows upon him. He could hear Olfina''s sobs, and then darkness claimed him. Vernon''s father, Count Varys Aerys, had to apologize profusely to the Duke and the crown prince. He promised to take responsibility for his son''s actions. The Duke, although furious, gave him a chance but forbade Vernon from approaching or being near his daughter. The Count let out a sigh of relief and thanked the Duke. The crown prince, however, remained nonchalant and left the two to converse. The Count went to visit his son, who was still unconscious but noticeably breathing. The guard was about to open the cell, but the Count refused, standing there, watching his son. He partly blamed himself for how Vernon had turned out. Despite providing education and wealth, he had failed to offer emotional support. Vernon was his fifth son, and his mother, a concubine, had been a purely political arrangement. Growing up, Vernon had felt like an outcast. His siblings alienated and sometimes bullied him. Whenever he made an effort or achieved something, his father was nonchalant and dismissive. As a result, Vernon grew rebellious and became a lout, a drunkard, and a womanizer. He spent his father''s money recklessly. When he awoke, he was in a dark, damp cell beneath the royal palace. The air was thick with the smell of mold and rot, and the taste of blood lingered on his lips. He lay there, the events of the night a blur, until the cell door creaked open. He was given a splash of water from a bucket, administered by the cell guard. He flinched and was about to attack the guard, but his father spoke from behind the guard, explaining that he had ordered it to clear his hangover and give him a clear mind. His father, Count Varys, stood there, his face a mask of disappointment. "Vernon," he said quietly, "what have you done?" "I didn¡¯t mean to," Vernon croaked, his voice hoarse. "I just wanted to talk to her." "You''ve disgraced our family," the Count said, his voice heavy with sorrow. "The Duke demanded justice, and I have given my word that you will be punished." Vernon hung his head, shame washing over him. "I''m sorry, Father. Please forgive me." The Count sighed, his shoulders slumping. "You must face the consequences of your actions. You will be banished to the Barony of Tyrol." The words hit Vernon like a physical blow. Tyrol was a remote, backwater place, far from the comforts of home. It was a punishment worse than he could have imagined. "I understand," he said quietly, the fight gone from him. The journey to Tyrol was long and arduous. The weather was unforgiving, with biting winds and driving rain. The cold seeped into his bones, and the constant dampness made him shiver uncontrollably. The landscape grew wilder and more desolate the farther they traveled, the lush greenery of the heartland giving way to rugged hills and dense forests. Tyrol had once been ruled by the knightly family of Tyr, but war had claimed the lives of all the men in the household. The women had left, abandoning the barony. For years, it had been managed sporadically by the County of Aldor, but it had fallen into neglect. When Vernon arrived, he was still the same angry, irresponsible man. He lashed out at the castle workers and villagers, venting his frustration on those around him. The people of Tyrol feared and resented him, but there was little they could do. Everything changed the day he fell from his horse. He had been drunk, as usual, and the fall left him unconscious for days. It was during that time that Samuel''s soul replaced Vernon''s. When he awoke, he was a different man. Samuel, now the new Vernon, grimaced as he reminisced about the past. The memories were a heavy burden, but they also gave him a sense of purpose. He walked out to the balcony of his castle and looked up at the night sky. The stars were densely packed and brighter than he had ever seen on Earth. It means that this world was closer to the center of the galaxy. He wasn''t even sure if he was still in the Milky Way galaxy. Developing modern and proper astronomy would be a task for later. It was a breathtaking sight, but it also reminded him of how far he was from home. He took a deep breath, the cool air filling his lungs and clearing his mind. The scent of pine and earth was a welcome change from the musty smell of the castle. He felt a sense of peace, knowing that he had a chance to make a difference in this new world. As he stood there, the breeze caressed his skin, and he could taste the promise of a new beginning. The night was quiet, save for the distant howl of a wolf and the rustle of leaves. The stars above seemed to whisper encouragement, urging him to embrace his new life and the challenges it brought. With a final look at the night sky, Vernon returned to his bed. The past was a heavy burden, but it no longer defined him. He had a chance to build a future, to make amends for the mistakes of the man whose body he now inhabited. He closed his eyes, the promise of a brighter tomorrow filling his dreams.