Industrial Mage: Modernizing a Magical World

14 - "Information"

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Ethan traced his finger along the meticulously drawn sketch of a simple, yet sturdy, wheelbarrow.

"What is this?" asked Artos.

"I call it a wheelbarrow," Ethan explained, tracing the spokes of the wheel. "A single large wheel in front, supported by two handles in the back for easy maneuvering. Perfect for transporting goods around town."

The smith scrutinized the designs, a frown etching its way between his eyebrows.

"Interesting design for a cart," he rumbled. "A hollow body with curved corners, and a single wheel." Artos stroked his gray-flecked beard. "Yes, my lord. We might have some extra wood around that would work well enough. Regardless, this... wheelbarrow," he said, tasting the word on his tongue, tracing the design with a thick finger, "this is ingenious, my lord. Easy to build, easy to use. Cheap. Revolutionary might be a tad strong a word. But it'll certainly make hauling firewood a sight easier than your current backbreaking method. People—in need—would flock to buy them."

Ethan had to stop a self-satisfied smile from stretching his lips. This would do it! He'd been rather shocked to see that this world had carriages, carts, the goddamn wheel, yet it didn't have any type of wheelbarrow! What a perfect product with so few materials, so much potential, and no one else knew it was out there waiting to happen. He would own the local monopoly, and make bank off the sale to other towns. Why? Because the majority of the work was manual labor, so the wheelbarrow would make things easier for everybody in equal parts. He could hear the jingling clink of gold already.

"Indeed, people would flock them. And that's where the second part of my proposition comes in. If you and your apprentices build these wheelbarrows, based on my blueprints," he tapped the parchment, "I'm willing to offer a profit-sharing agreement."

"Blueprint?" asked Artos.

Ah, they don't have that term.

"Yes, a blueprint is... uh, how you say, a drawing showing everything about how to build a thing, in great detail. No room for error."

Technically, it wasn't necessarily a blueprint. While a wheelbarrow design could be documented in a blueprint (the old-school technical drawing kind), it wouldn't be the most common term. A normal blueprint would be far too complex.

"Fascinating," said Artos. Picking up Ethan's sketches, he brought them to the nearest torch for closer scrutiny. "I'm up for a deal, my lord," said Artos. Then, under his breath, he mumbled to himself as he traced the lines, "Wish we had the help of one of these scribes, these are highly detailed..."

Ethan coughed. Those weren't even that impressive.

The deal itself was simple—Ethan would provide the blueprint, some of the materials, and the investment. Artos, in turn, would craft the wheelbarrows and handle the day-to-day production. The real crux, however, was the profit split. In most partnerships, the division of spoils followed a well-worn path. The one who supplied the raw materials typically took a larger cut, especially if the materials were rare or difficult to obtain. Here, Ethan held that advantage. Wood and basic iron were readily available, but it still required investment into a product that had yet to hit the market of this world at all. Then there was the question of skill. With his years of experience and honed muscle memory, Artos could make a wheelbarrow in his sleep. Ethan, on the other hand, had never stepped foot near a forge. His contribution was purely intellectual—the blueprint, the novel design that promised to revolutionize the way people hauled goods—as well as investment, along with providing materials.