Now the fate of his new friend worried the priest. The troll's low production value could make him want to kill it and not spend any more money on its upkeep. In the vampire's personal opinion, this "weak" troll could compete on equal terms with Comrade Stakhanov, single-handedly providing a tenth of the mine's output.
- Let's get down to business, Light Father.
Hearing the phrase after which he had to make an unpleasant and extremely painful flight, the priest clearly shuddered, but quickly got over himself and summarized the essence of the matter. He asked for very little. Not to kill Tarn, as the troll was known, and to help him find employment, for the coming winter was always a challenge, and even more so for a creature that needed to eat a lot.
The vampire assured the old man of his sincere desire to help the troll and escorted the priest out of the office, promising to visit the non-human soon and solve all the problems together. The satisfied priest went to his friend, and Alexander scratched the back of his head, thinking about where he could put the troll, if he couldn't kill it, and whether the people in Savoyardi would be happy about such a neighborhood. The vampires themselves knew nothing about trolls.
Their knowledge of other races was still scanty and fragmentary.
They couldn't even tell what was true and what was fiction in the scraps of information that came to them with the memory of blood. The group that went to the city of dwarves killed a couple of trolls in battle, but unfortunately could not get to their blood, the bodies were safely buried under the mass of dead goblins and no one was wasting time on clearing up. So the trolls, despite their close proximity, were still a mystery to the vampires, as were the distant elves and dwarves. Not to mention the other races that inhabited this world.
Alexander was pulled from his musings by a knock on the door. Judging by the smell, there stood the local engineer, apparently waiting for the priest's office. In principle, there was nothing surprising that all the local leadership will want to see the knight. Even though the archmage had put the centurion in charge, no one had any doubts about who really gave orders at the mine. And even the knowledge that the knight was the "Caliph for an hour" did not prevent people from seeking attention and support from the temporary lord.
- Come in!
- Your Grace... - the man who had entered clapped his eyes in fright, realizing that it was probably not a good idea to address the mage in such a way, - Your Excellency....
Confused by the proper title and realizing that he had finally discredited himself in the eyes of the magician, the engineer fell into a stupor. Coming from a simple family of craftsmen, he was a typical working man, far from politics or intrigue.
- Come in, my good man! Sit down," the vampire smiled in a friendly manner, which made the man shudder, as he was more accustomed to the bar's anger, "What do you want?
- Your Grace... that is, Your Excellency....
- Your Grace.
- I'm not noble..." said the engineer, taking the address personally.
- I say that you can address me as Your Grace! - Alexander was beginning to get annoyed, but he tried not to show it.
- I'm here for the mine, Your Grace. We need to strengthen it before winter.
Everything was clear in principle. The money allocated by the treasury to keep the mine in working order had been successfully spent at the beginning of summer. It wasn't even about stealing. There had been a real collapse in the mine. There were no real deaths, but fixing it ate up all the funds. Usually in such cases, the royal representative simply allocated additional money in the fall, because the situation was quite ordinary.
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