Somewhere in the Red Keep, King’s Landing.
Tyrion Lannister’s brownish-gold curls tumbled over his forehead.
He wore a tunic of soft leather embroidered with a roaring lion.
Barely over four feet tall, his head was oversized for his small body, his forehead bulged, and his gait was awkward and waddling.
“Hey, big brother, didn’t notice me?
Where are you off to?
Has my lovely older sister appointed you as her personal courier?” Jaime Lannister shrugged and slowed his pace.
Tyrion caught up with him.
“Jaime, you should learn to come over to me on your own.
My most important function in House Lannister is to stand beside you, highlighting your magnificent stature wherever and whenever.” Jaime let out a helpless sigh.
“Fine, you win.
I’ll confess—I really am off to deliver a letter.” Tyrion immediately flashed a grin.
“Has my lonely sister finally lost her patience and decided to take a lover?
Quick, let me see!” Jaime’s lips twitched, and he raised the envelope.
“Sorry to disappoint, but it’s already sealed with wax.” With a sweep of his hand, Jaime dodged Tyrion’s jumping hands as he tried to grab the letter.
“It’s not top secret.
I can tell you what’s inside.” “Oh-ho, looks like I guessed wrong.” “Yes.
Stop always harboring malicious thoughts about Cersei.
You’re full siblings.” “Aha!
Should I look forward to our dear sister kissing my cheek?
Not unless The Seven take a nap.” “Tyrion, do not be disrespectful to The Seven.” “The old gods of The Seven won’t care about what an old dwarf says.” Tyrion patted Jaime’s thigh.
“Out with it, then.” “It’s from a petty baron in Crackclaw Point.
Cersei intends to bring him along for the royal hunt in the Kingswood.” “Unexpected news.
Is dear sister in such a good mood?” “The little baron wrote to her first.
The boy is a flatterer.” “Haha!
Jaime, you seem to dislike this little baron.
Afraid he’ll steal sister’s affection away from her beloved brother?” “It’s rare for you two to share an opinion.
I’m not that base.
Young men should focus their energy on swordsmanship, not flattery.” “Isn’t that perfect, Jaime?
As a Kingsguard, you can take this chance to teach him a proper lesson and contribute to his growth.” Tyrion paused, then added, “Brother, Crackclaw Point is a godsforsaken place.
You’re a Lannister—you’ll never know what it feels like to be short of coin.
When your belly isn’t full, who has the mood to swing a sword?
Crackclaw Point has a tradition of directly swearing fealty to the Queen; it’s their ancestral craft.
“Brother, this is a good thing.
At least the little baron isn’t stupid—he knows the Lannisters have money, doesn’t he?” Jaime looked slightly embarrassed.
“You two always have all the logic on your side.
I’m just suited for running errands.” *** Three days later, under a clear, washed-blue sky.
Whispers Castle, Bowyer’s Workshop.
Green picked up a finished longbow—roughly two meters in length—from a wooden workbench, pulling the string back to test the draw…
about 110 to 120 pounds.
To survive, most smallfolk in the Crabb domain had to both farm and hunt.
Most knew how to use bows, so this pull weight served well as an entry point, making it easy to adapt to.
With systematic training, the long-term plan would later introduce longbows with draw weights of 130 and 150 pounds.
The longbow was modeled after the English longbow from his past-life memories: relatively simple to manufacture, yet boasting impressive range.
[Hunting within the territory is a vital means of livelihood; demand is high, and bow-making materials are stockpiled year-round.] “My Lord, I can make three a day now.” “Me too!” “Same here.” The ones answering Green’s questions were the woodworkers—former bowyers, numbering around ten men.
Green had originally planned to divide the longbow production into several steps, setting up a simplified assembly line to boost efficiency.
He later abandoned the idea.
The primary hurdle was the lack of suitable factory management personnel; without effective supervision and oversight, quality and efficiency would drop in tandem.
Demand for longbows wouldn’t skyrocket in the short term, and current production speeds were sufficient to meet requirements.
Thus, he decided to let them stick to traditional methods for now.
Gathering the craftsmen in one place allowed them to see each other’s pace with a glance, creating a healthy competitive environment—a small step forward.
Green reminded himself that haste makes waste; he needed to take things step by step, lest a stride too wide tear something fragile.
Overall, Green was satisfied.
He casually picked up a few more longbows to test them before instructing the men on a few details.
Green then announced to everyone that this weapon would be officially named the Crabb Longbow.
*** Ser Pere had a grand reputation within the territory and completed his assignment quickly.
The 100-man Recon Corps had already begun basic formation training.
Most soldiers in the Recon Corps came from hunter backgrounds, bringing their own bows and shortswords.
Conveniently, in line with Green’s planning, the standard arms for the Recon Corps would be shortbows paired with shortswords.
Green defined the Recon Corps as mountain light infantry clad in leather armor, tasked primarily with scouting and surprise raids.
Because the honest Recon Corps soldiers brought their own weapons, it greatly relieved the strain on Whispers Castle’s modest armory.
Everything else was manageable, but Green noticed the arrows brought by the hunters were lacking—mostly homemade, with inconsistent quality.
Their arrowheads lacked proper lethality, so Whispers Castle’s smithy was now focused entirely on forging superior arrowheads.
Green felt as though his tasks were endless.
First, helmets presented another issue.
There were definitely no spare helmets left in the armory; the 200 house troops of the Crabb domain had turned the armory inside out just to get fully equipped.
Green recalled the bandanas popular among pirates.
The grey linen in the storehouse—the most abundant material in stock—was cut into towel-sized pieces, wrapped around their heads, and tied securely to serve as temporary military caps.
One hundred men uniformly wearing grey linen bandanas gave off a distinct air of a regular army.
[Recon Corps Cohesion +1] Next came the armor.
In the future, Green’s goal was for every member of the Recon Corps to wear chainmail over leather armor.
For now, that goal was far off.
Whispers Castle’s storehouse had plenty of hides, but almost all of it was soft leather; boiled, hard leather was scarce.
Hard leather was the primary material required for crafting leather armor.
To guarantee basic protection for every soldier in the Recon Corps, Green mobilized all idle hands in the castle to craft leather armor together.
Time was tight, so aesthetic details were temporarily discarded.
Cut, punch holes, thread straps—a set of simple leather armor was complete.
Emparo’s Thorn Corps could not be neglected either; as lord, he couldn’t play favorites.
However, following the original method, the supply of hard leather was far from sufficient.
After pondering for a moment, Green made the decision: the Crabb domain’s new leather armor would eliminate the backplate, retaining only the breastplate to protect the chest and abdomen.
This would nearly double the number of armors produced, barely enough to equip the Thorn Corps.
Does the back not need protection?
As long as you always face the enemy, why worry about your back?
Green temporarily added another line to the family motto—”Never Turn Back in Death.”