The Eastern Province is a breath of fresh air compared to the other places I've been in the Morningstar Kingdom. Here in the Green Forest, it's like someone plucked Hobbiton straight out of my imagination and planted it right here in our realm. The rolling hills, the lush greenery - it's perfect for bringing the Shire to life.
I've sunk a small fortune into this place already. Fifty thousand dollars to a company in Grass City to build our Hobbit houses. Most are just facades - all exterior, no interior - but Bilbo's place is the real deal, inside and out. It's got to be perfect; after all, it's where our story begins.
Getting the permits was a whole adventure in itself. Had to schmooze the lord of Grass City, convince him that letting a bunch of demons play make-believe in his forest was a good idea. But money talks, and a hundred thousand dollars later, we're the proud owners of 100,000 square meters of prime Hobbiton real estate.
A thousand dollars per square meter. It's enough to make even a demon's wallet weep. But I couldn't care less about the cost. This isn't just an expense; it's an investment.
Sure, I could've just rented the land, but where's the vision in that? If "Lord of the Rings" takes off like I think it will, this place could become a goldmine. Just look at what happened with "The Demonfather" locations - tourists flocking in, eager to walk in Michael Corleone's footsteps.
Imagine what they'll do for a chance to step into the Shire.
It's been five days since we started building Hobbiton in the Green Forest. I've been busy overseeing filming locations across the kingdom.
I've decided on the Shadow Plains in the dark province bordering Ashen Plains for Mordor. It fits the bill perfectly.
Gloomstone Forest is pulling double duty. The shallow parts match Fangorn, while the deeper sections work well for Mirkwood.
I've struck a deal with the trolls to help with some scenes later. Their tree manipulation skills will be useful.
As for the primal orcs in the deep forest, that's been trickier. They seem to hate us demons especially. I've heard their chiefs and elders can speak common tongue, but I haven't made contact yet. I'll need to get stronger before I try reasoning with them.
From what I've gathered, these orcs aren't as unreasonable as I first thought. They don't attack people randomly, instead hunting forest wildlife like goblins, boars, and monkeys for food.
It's interesting - even the animals here can use magic. That makes hunting challenging for the orcs.
There's still a lot to figure out, but we're making progress. One step at a time. Google seaʀᴄh novel·fire·net
An hour later, the construction crew chief calls me over. "Mr. Morningstar, Bilbo's house is ready."
Curiosity gets the better of me, and I head straight there. Stepping inside, I can't help but grin. It's like my drawings have come to life. Sure, it's missing some accessories, but the bones are there. We're really doing this.
Outside, I gather the team. "Alright," I say, trying to keep the excitement out of my voice. "Tomorrow morning, we start filming. Get some rest tonight - it's going to be a busy day."
A chorus of "Understood, boss" rings out. Their faces are all business. Good. We'll need that focus.
I glance over at our cast. Jeremy, our Bilbo, is chatting with some of the other half-human, half-dwarf actors we've roped in as extras. In the corner, Kurt Vault - our Frodo - stands quietly, taking it all in. Kid looks nervous, but he's got the right look. He'll do fine.
Then there's Gerald Matthew, our Gandalf, watching everything with those piercing eyes of his. I've got to hand it to him - for a human from Empirica, he's been surprisingly cool about working with a bunch of demons. No condescension, just professionalism. I can respect that.
I check my watch. Time to head back to the capital and grab some last-minute supplies.
I make my way to the small hobbit house we won't be using for filming. From the outside, it looks just like the others - quaint, unassuming. Perfect for hiding a secret.
Inside, it's bare. No frills, no accessories. Just an empty space and a well-concealed trap door. Only a handful of people know about this place, and they're not allowed in without me. Can't be too careful.
I crouch down, running my hand along the floor until I feel the slight indentation. Pressing down and sliding it to the left, I hear a soft click. The trap door pops open, revealing a ladder descending into darkness.
As I climb down, my weight on the ladder triggers the mechanism, and the door above me slides shut. Wouldn't want any curious actors - or nosy crew members - stumbling upon this.
The hidden room is cool and quiet. In the center sits the inactive portal, waiting. I pull out the stone, whisper the activation phrase, and watch as the air shimmers and warps.
One step, a moment of disorientation, and I'm in the studio's hidden room. Just like that - from the Shire to the city in the blink of an eye.
"Welcome back, boss."
I turn to see George hunched over our "computer project" table, tinkering away as usual. "Is our new colored camera ready?" I ask, cutting straight to the chase.
George's face lights up like a kid on Hellmas morning. "Ready? It's more than ready. Those babies are several times better than our first camera. With the budget you gave me, I've improved everything - color, handling, lenses, stands, the works."
"Where are they? We start filming tomorrow," I remind him.
"Wait here," George says, practically bouncing with excitement as he disappears into the other room.
He returns, a camera balanced precariously between his shoulders. I wince. "Careful with that," I warn.
"I know, I know," he grumbles, gently setting it down.
But he's not done. George keeps shuttling back and forth, bringing out camera after camera, along with stands and what looks like enough equipment to film three movies simultaneously.
I can't help but chuckle. "You really outdid yourself, huh?"
George beams with pride. "I even have backup lenses in case anything breaks," he says, patting a nearby case. "And get this - using your blueprint for increasing the aspect ratio, I've managed to push these cameras to a 2.40:1 ratio. The lenses are crafted with a precise curvature that allows for a wider field of view without distortion."
George holds up a roll of film, his eyes gleaming with pride. "I've also successfully applied that idea from your blueprint. Like in the computer, I've put a memory in the camera, though it couldn't compare to our computer."
"You were able to do it?" I ask, genuinely surprised. I knew George was good, but this is beyond my expectations.
He nods enthusiastically. "Yes. This 'memory' can help correct color and other issues as we're filming. It's not perfect - we'll still need to edit afterwards - but it gives us a much better starting point."
I can't help but smile, patting him on the shoulder. "Good work, George."
With the tech update out of the way, I shift gears. "What's the news around here while I've been gone?" I ask, leaning against the workbench. Staying informed is crucial - you never know when a bit of news might come in handy.
George snaps out of his tech-talk trance, blinking as if remembering where he is. "Oh right, news. Actually..." He rummages through the clutter on his desk, fishing out a newspaper. "You might want to see this."
I take the paper, and there I am, staring back at myself as Michael Corleone. The headline screams: "Exiled Prince Arthur's Hellfire Studios Embarks on Biggest Film Project in World History. Millions Already Spent. Can Lightning Strike Twice After 'The Demonfather'?"
I can't help but smirk. "Well, they're not wrong about the 'biggest' part. But they're a bit late to the party, aren't they?"
George nods, then hands me another paper. "There's more."
This one's from closer to home: "Lord Antree of Grass City Reveals: Exiled Prince Purchases 100,000 sqm in Green Forest for Mystery Film Project."
"Huh," I mutter, shaking my head. "Looks like Lord Antree couldn't keep our little deal to himself. Can't say I'm surprised."
I skim through the articles, my mind already racing with potential implications. The cat's out of the bag now, for better or worse.