Euron Greyjoy's return gift to his father Quellon Greyjoy was not gold, silver, or jewels, but a dozen master blacksmiths carefully selected from Qohor and brought back across the ocean.
This gift precisely struck at the long-standing sore spot of the Iron Islands—sitting on abundant iron ore, yet lacking top forging skills, they could only export raw materials cheaply and import finished iron goods at high prices, with a profit gap so huge it was heartbreaking.
Quellon gazed at these silent, highly skilled craftsn, eyes shining with undisguised appreciation and joy. He knew these were the key to making the Iron Islands' steel truly "flow with gold."
Subsequently, a carefully designed strategy of "carrot and stick" fell upon the blacksmiths:
The Carrot: Extrely generous appeasent. The blacksmiths would not only receive salaries far richer than before but also a solemn promise—soon they would be reunited with their families in distant Qohor. Furthermore, the Iron Islands' endless iron ore resources would be at their disposal, and they were encouraged to freely practice their technical ideas, which undoubtedly touched the core pursuit of every true craftsman.
The Stick: An unambiguous bottom line. Euron and Quellon drew a red line that could not be crossed: before they successfully trained a batch of local blacksmiths capable of inheriting their skills and being useful to the Iron Islands, no one would be granted permission to leave. This was not a request, but the Iron Islands' "hospitality," the inevitable return expected for this precious "investnt."
This combined strategy offered heart-moving respect and a future while delineating clear and unquestionable responsibilities and boundaries. Its purpose was singular: to make these treasures of Qohor willingly yet with no other choice dedicate their skills and blood sweat unreservedly to the Iron Islands.
Whatever thoughts these dozen master blacksmiths harbored, now that they were here, leaving would be difficult. Regardless, they could now only serve the Iron Islands; there was no other way out.
Euron did not place the blacksmiths from Qohor on the noisy main island but carefully selected a remote, uninhabited island among the Iron Islands.
Surrounded by cliffs, easy to defend and hard to attack, it was far from prying eyes. Euron had long felt that the dozen idle uninhabited small islands around the Iron Islands should be utilized. Accustod to land being precious as gold, he couldn't stand such waste.
Now it was perfect. From now on, the Iron Islands had one more island—Iron Smoke Isle—the Isle of Blacksmiths!
Euron Greyjoy personally selected the site and participated in the design, building an isolated yet fully functional workshop village on the seaside highlands. Sturdy basalt stone houses were built like loyal guards around a massive forge in the center that roared day and night. Sea wind wrapped in salty breath and the sll of hot iron filings filled the air.
He stood before the gathered blacksmiths, his voice piercing the noise of wind and furnace, clear and powerful: "Here, stone houses shelter you from wind and rain, endless iron ore is yours to take. Everything you need—tools, materials, food—will be supplied in abundance." His gaze swept over every skeptical face. "Your skills will receive absolute respect here; it is no longer a ans of livelihood, but a treasure worth inheriting."
Then, he threw out the weightiest promise: "I swear by the na of Greyjoy, soon your families far away in Qohor will be safely brought here to reunite with you." This sentence was like a heavy hamr striking every blacksmith's heart. The arrival of blood relatives would reassure them, and secondly, every wife, child, and lover would be a hostage ensuring they wouldn't flee.
Euron Greyjoy formally announced the arrival of the Qohorik blacksmiths to the lords of each island. When these lords ruling over hard reefs and cold waves learned of this, they saw not a group of craftsn far from ho, but a brand-new financial path about to open, shimring with tallic luster.
Euron had already proven his Midas touch with the astounding profits of the "White Gold Sand" trade. Now, no one doubted he could turn cold iron ore into gold as well.
Based on this established trust and expectation, Euron promulgated an Iron Islands decree. The order went out from Pyke, quickly spreading through the entire Iron Islands, to every fortress and mine: From this day forth, not a single grain of iron ore mined within the Iron Islands shall be sold externally.
Simultaneously, the Iron Islands launched a more aggressive operation—House Greyjoy began to publicly and forcefully acquire all circulating iron materials on the market on an unprecedented scale.
Raven ssages spread through the Seven Kingdoms: Grain for Iron, anyone want to trade? MMM...
When the long three-year winter finally retreated slowly from Westeros, it left behind a land thoroughly hollowed out. The Seven Kingdoms had just survived this catastrophe, only to find themselves destitute at the first breath of relief—three years of bitter cold were like a greedy beast, swallowing the last grain, exhausting the last margin of every granary.
Though ice lted, signs of spring brought little comfort. Fields remained barren, granaries unprecedentedly empty. Anything that could fill a stomach, any edible food, could now exchange for various resources at three to five tis the usual price.
It was in this crisis that Euron Greyjoy's three sea ships slowly sailed back to the Iron Islands. Unlike ordinary rchant ships, their holds were not loaded with rare treasures but stuffed with various grains carefully acquired from Essos across the Narrow Sea—wheat, barley, oats, and storable beans. These ordinary goods beca the most maddening wealth at this mont.
Euron's move to exchange grain for iron imdiately triggered an unprecedented sensation. News spread like wildfire through the Seven Kingdoms. Lords eager to escape hunger brought out their treasured iron ingots and ores. Many desperate rulers even took off their armor and handed over their weapons to exchange for the life-saving grain on Euron's ships. The docks of House Greyjoy were bustling all day long, representatives from everywhere rushing to buy, fearing that a step behind ant missing the chance for survival.
This had long surpassed a simple trade; it was a strategic layout showing foresight.
Euron not only harvested mountains of iron material but also invisibly drained the armant potential of potential opponents—hungry people ultimately cannot survive by gnawing on swords and armor, while the grain he provided truly saved countless fiefs and families on the brink of collapse.
This batch of grain from across the Narrow Sea allowed the starving people under many lords to survive the final difficult mont. Thus, this trade not only brought tangible resources to the Iron Islands but also won heavy gratitude and friendship from lords across the Seven Kingdoms.
For those without iron ore, timber and Gold Dragons were equally acceptable to Euron.
anwhile, the ports of the Iron Islands changed their forr appearance known for longships and raiding. They beca the first harbors in all of Westeros to welco such large-scale rchant fleets after winter retreated. Masts like forests, sails covering the sun, voices and cargo chants weaving endlessly—this sea area once echoing only with Ironborn war cries was quietly transforming into a new trade center.
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