Chapter 66: Backwardness Beyond Imagination
After taking on this self-invited female apprentice, Egger rubbed his brow. The list of things to do was growing longer; he felt exhausted.
Born in a peaceful and prosperous modern world, the level of nutrition during his growth had been better than—or at least equal to—most nobles in this world. His excellent physical condition meant that with just a bit of training, his strength and reaction speed were superior to many veterans among the Night's Watch builders and stewards. But that was all. In the eyes of the old, weak, and disabled of the Watch or the average wildling beyond the Wall, he might be a mainstay of the rangers, the elite of the elite; but looking at Westeros as a whole, he was merely more disciplined and experienced than the average young recruit. A brief introduction and less than a year of training under someone like Alliser Thorne created a gap that couldn't be bridged by a transmigrator's halo or mere cleverness.
Setting aside famous fighters, even Jory Cassel—the Captain of the Guard Eddard had left to watch over Arya—was someone Egger stood absolutely no chance against in a real fight.
Fortunately, Arya was still just a naive little girl. He only needed to use half the effort he'd spent catching Tyrion's interest to figure out how to coax her. By putting on a show of teaching her basic sword grips, stances, footwork, and even simple slashes and parries... he could easily trick her into seeing him as a trusted mentor and a second Jon Snow before her skill level rose high enough to realize he wasn't actually the master she imagined.
And later, if her interest wasn't just a passing whim and she truly wanted to advance her swordsmanship, he could simply find a more suitable instructor for her. Like Jaqen, or that First Sword of the Sealord... wait, what was that damn man's name? Syrio? Oliva? Forget it, no point dwelling on it.
Having settled the matter of sword lessons with Arya, the two left the inner room. The Night's Watch office, empty save for the desks and cabinets, offered little entertainment. The girl looked around restlessly and soon grew fidgety.
Fortunately, Eddard Stark soon returned with his original retinue to collect his daughter. From the thoughtful expression on the Hand's face, it was clear that under Littlefinger's guidance, he had already realized something. If the master stirrer of chaos were allowed to continue his operations step by step, Ned's trust in him would build rapidly. By then, it would be too late.
He had to launch his plan to drive a wedge between them as soon as possible. This took priority over everything.
Today's work was mostly finished. Egger gave Jakken a dozen silver deers to go buy a few light practice swords, then prepared to close up for the day and return to the inn to ponder how to provoke friction between Littlefinger and Ned.
"Egger!"
Tyrion arrived at the office entrance in a hurry, accompanied by Morrec. He scrambled off his horse and hurried inside.
"I was just about to head back to the inn. What's so urgent it couldn't wait?"
The Imp was out of breath; he waved his hand dismissively. "To the inner room. Let's sit and talk."
Egger didn't know what had happened and followed him in with some trepidation, sitting back down where he had just been speaking with Arya, waiting for Tyrion to explain.
After a brief explanation, the Chief Logistics Officer of the Night's Watch understood why Tyrion had come in such a rush: the paper merchants couldn't provide the steady, cheap, and massive supply of paper they needed. Papermaking technology simply did not exist in this world!
All existing books in Westeros were copied onto parchment—and parchment was literally made from sheepskin. This meant the cost of books was astronomical, and the bulk of that cost lay in the material, not the scribe's wages as Egger and Tyrion had naively assumed! Simply using printing to cut down the minor cost of labor wouldn't achieve a revolutionary breakthrough or earn enough gold to fill the massive hole of a Ponzi scheme!
"To be honest, I only found this out today after specifically looking into it," Tyrion said apologetically. Given his background, whenever he needed paper in the past, he'd just toss a gold dragon to Morrec or Jakken and tell them to buy a stack, letting them keep the change as a tip. Whether a single sheet was worth one silver deer or two made no difference to him.
But now that he was serious about starting a major business, he realized that the funds—or rather, the pocket money—he usually considered quite substantial were worth absolutely nothing.
As for Lord Tywin... it was generous enough that he didn't skim the allowance of his dwarf son; there was no way he would lend him money for frivolous nonsense.
Excitedly preparing to open a factory, print books, and spread knowledge (while making a profit), only to find your money isn't even enough to buy the paper... being doused with cold water like that didn't feel great.
"That shouldn't be right," Egger frowned in confusion. This era of Westeros was roughly equivalent to the late Middle Ages in Europe; papermaking should have spread here long ago... Wait, spread! There was no Arabs acting as porters and spreaders of knowledge. Naturally, no papermaking technology would have spread here!
Though he understood the reason, Egger was still indignant: papermaking isn't exactly high-tech; without people from his world, couldn't the natives here have invented it themselves? He felt frustrated by their lack of progress, but upon reflection, it was somewhat understandable. With irregular seasons causing a just get by backward mentality to prevail, the rulers and commoners of this world lacked the incentive for invention and creation.
"Egger," Tyrion asked expectantly, "Do you know any paper making technologies?"
"I'm just an adventurer. The process of making paper was perfected a thousand years ago back home; it's such a commonplace technology that I never imagined there would be a place on earth where people couldn't make it." Egger scratched his head in frustration. To hell with prosperity and sprouts of capitalism—Westeros' backwardness had once again plummeted below his lowest predictions. The bustle of shops and workshops in King's Landing was likely just a localized phenomenon.
Did he really have to develop papermaking in this world too? But his knowledge of the process was limited to general science trivia.
"The paper merchant mentioned a young man outside the city who's trying to make paper from grass, but 'the stuff he makes is only fit for wiping one's backside.' I plan to find time to go see what it's all about."
"Making paper from grass?" Egger's mind raced. While he didn't know the exact process, he knew that modern paper was essentially plant fiber treated chemically. Could the young man the merchant mentioned become the inventor of paper making in the world of Ice and Fire?
Perhaps he couldn't on his own, but as long as the direction was correct and enough research funding was thrown at it, he had to succeed!
"That's good news. Tomorrow, take some men to find this youth. See what his logic is for making paper from grass. If he's just stitching large leaves together and drying them, it's worthless. But if he's mashing the grass and using other methods, hire him. Invest dozens or even a hundred gold dragons. Let him improve the process and select the right raw materials immediately, with the goal of producing usable paper."
"Mashing grass to make paper?" Tyrion couldn't comprehend it, but over the past few months, he had developed a near-unconditional trust in his adventurer friend. He nodded without hesitation. "Fine, I'll go tomorrow. Looking on the bright side, this might be a massive opportunity. Replacing hand-copying with printing might only reduce book costs by a fraction, but if we control the entire process from papermaking to the finished book, the profits will be staggering!"
"Indeed. Back home, we call that a 'complete industrial chain.'" Egger realized this as well and quickly added: "If you find that the young man's logic is sound, bring him in at any cost. Keep the trade secrets firmly in our hands!"
"Complete industrial chain? A good term!" The smile returned to Tyrion's previously dejected face. Things were starting to get interesting.
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