When you next return to Karak Eight Peaks with a Gyrocarriage loaded with books, you transfer the ones on textiles to a wheelbarrow and make your way through Karag Nar until you arrive at the office of the Karag's Viceroy, Francesco Caravello, into whose lap the silk question was dropped when the Dwarven Weavers refused to have anything to do with it. "Lady Magister," he says in confusion, hand moving away from the sword he'd started reaching for when your wheelbarrow slammed his door open. "How can I help you?"
"Other way around, I hope. How's the silk business coming along?" you ask cheerily.
"We are making progress," he says cautiously.
"Got any friends in academia?" Eltharin is the precursor to Classical, Tilea's academic language, so it's as studied there as much as Khazalid is in the Empire.
He takes a moment to answer. "I know a few people, and those few people know a few more. Why?"
"Round up anyone who knows Eltharin and is looking for work and set them up with the people you've got working on the silk. Here's every book on textiles the Wood Elves of Laurelorn have ever written. Consider yourself the first patron of the Kron-Azril-Ungol, the Library of Kvinn-Wyr."
Francesco picks up one of the books and flips through its pages. "Wood Elves? Don't they kill all trespassers?"
"Usually, yes. Let me know how it goes."
You walk away, dusting off your hands with satisfaction. Furnishing the Project HQ had reminded you that Johann has silk sheets and you still don't. Hopefully this will solve that little problem.
