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The "Decade of Construction" was over, and Arcanus was a marvel. But its new Baron Chancellor, Iccasash Vorrash, had a massive problem. The kingdom was hemorrhaging its dragon-hoard wealth on a single, unsustainable expense: food.
King Arwon, however, had a different priority. He was a wealthy king, a master of magic, and a new Celestial Knight... but he couldn't get a good smoke.
Back in Astra, he had developed a particular taste for "Halfling Tabaco," a unique, low-strength marijuana plant blended with pipe-weed, grown exclusively by a few Halfling families in the Plains District. Now, living in his new kingdom, this supply was 1700 miles away. Imports were slow, unreliable, and (worst of all) stale.
While Baron Vorrash was worried about feeding the kingdom, Arwon was focused on this. He decided to solve both problems with a single, brilliant, and self-serving move.
King Arwon, a man of singular focus, knew exactly who he needed. He didn't send a letter; he sent a Celestial Knight (perhaps Alaya Runestick) with a royal summons to the Plains District of Astra.
The summons was for a specific, non-descript Halfling farmer named Podo Stout-leaf. Podo was a master, part of a small family guild that grew and blended the finest "Halfling Tabaco" in the world—the exact blend Arwon craved.
Podo was terrified. He was a simple farmer, a member of Astra's lowest working-class (a Halfling "overseen" by Elven landowners), and he had just been summoned 1,700 miles by the "Wizard King." He was certain he was to be executed, perhaps for "corrupting" the Prince years ago.
He was brought, shaking, into the Royal Palace on the floating capital, Senzynia. King Arwon was there, as was the stern, imposing Grand Priestess Eran Sage.
"Podo Stout-leaf," Arwon said, smiling warmly. "It has been too long. I trust your journey was... magical?"
"Y-yes, Your Majesty," Podo stammered.
"Your Majesty," Eran Sage interjected, her voice cool. "We are discussing a vice. It is a 'poor habit,' and it smells." She looked at Podo. "The King has a... proposal. I have advised against it."
Podo's blood ran cold.
Arwon waved his hand, dismissing his wife's concern with a playful grin. "Podo, my friend. My kingdom has a logistical crisis. Baron Vorrash tells me we need a sustainable food source. I, on the other hand, have a personal crisis: I cannot get a decent smoke."
He unrolled a map of the Arwonian peninsula, showing the massive, fertile, and empty valleys.
"I am giving you that one," Arwon said, pointing to the largest, most fertile valley. "It will be the new County of Greenbough. And you will be Count Podo Stout-leaf."
Podo stopped shaking. He was simply confused. "A... a Count? Your Majesty, I am a farmer. I know nothing of... counting."
"Exactly!" Arwon boomed. "You know farming! You will have your pick of the Halfling families in Astra. You will have a blank check from my treasury. You will move here, you will organize the valley, and you will build Arwonia's breadbasket."
Podo was stunned. "But... what is my tax? What do I owe the crown?"
Arwon leaned in, his expression conspiratorial. "You will grow wheat. You will grow corn, barley, and vegetables. All of that will go to Baron Vorrash to feed the College. We will tax the merchants who sell it. Your only royal tax, Count Podo, is one crate, per month, of your finest personal blend."
Eran sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Arwon, you are not giving a man a hereditary noble title in exchange for... a plant."
"I am!" Arwon declared. "And as the new Count, he is also responsible for feeding 12,000 people. It's a perfectly sound economic decision."
Count Podo Stout-leaf returned to the Plains District of Astra not as a simple farmer, but as a landed noble of a foreign power. He carried King Arwon's gold and a royal charter.
He didn't need to recruit. The Halfling families of Astra, who lived as a segregated, landless working class, saw Podo as a liberator. The promise of owning their own land—and a county at that—was the answer to a prayer they didn't know they'd made. Within a year, a "Great Migration" of Halflings (and the Gnomish and Elven farmers they were allied with) made the journey to Arwonia's "Verdant Valley."
They named their new county Greenbough.
The county is not a single city. It is a sprawling, idyllic landscape of rolling hills, farms, and tidy villages, all built in the Halfling style of comfortable burrows and sturdy, timber-framed longhouses.
The Economy (The "Two Crops"):
The County of Greenbough is, officially, the "Breadbasket of Arwonia."
The "Public" Crop: Under Count Podo's expert guidance, the valley became the most productive agricultural region in the world. Its primary industry is the massive-scale farming of wheat, corn, and barley, which is collected in the central town of "The Granary" and shipped via "Sky-Train" to Baron Vorrash in Arcanus to feed the College.
The "Royal" Crop: Tucked away in a small, private, and magically-warded valley is Count Podo's true passion: his personal fields of "Halfling Tabaco." This is his "royal tax," and he tends to it with the skill of a master artisan.
The Political Dynamic:
The county is a resounding success, but it is the source of a quiet, playful, and constant domestic friction in the capital. Grand Priestess Eran Sage hates the smell of the "Tabaco" and publicly disapproves of the "vice." She makes regular "inspections" of Greenbough, trying to dissuade Count Podo from growing it, claiming it "harms the kingdom's moral fiber."
This has forced Count Podo to become a master of logistics. He must produce enough "legitimate" food to keep Baron Vorrash and the College happy, while also ensuring his "secret" crop of Halfling Tabaco is healthy, blended, and delivered discreetly to the King's personal study, bypassing the Grand Priestess entirely.
By the Present Day (Y182), Greenbough is the most peaceful and prosperous of all of Arwonia's counties, a testament to King Arwon's belief that to build a great nation, you must first secure the important things.